


Alchemy Between You & Me

by LunnarEclipse



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: A self-indulgent fix-it, Adventure, F/M, Guy needs to learn there's more to life than power, Kind of a slow burn, Romance, Takes place during the events of the second season, Unnamed Reader, because who likes season 3 anyways, no y/n
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 49,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27362053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunnarEclipse/pseuds/LunnarEclipse
Summary: Completely done-in with your wilfulness, your parents send you away to the city of Bologna, Italy, to stay with a local friend of theirs that is a professor at their renowned University. Unbeknownst to them, you spend your time abroad becoming an educated woman and eventually stumble upon Europe's newest scientific rage: alchemy. All that you wished was to go about the rest of your days honing your craft, but things do not always work out the way you want them to, especially when your talents manage to reach the ears of a certain dastardly sheriff...
Relationships: Djaq & Will Scarlett, Djaq/Will Scarlett, Guy of Gisborne/Reader, Guy of Gisborne/You, Maid Marian/Robin Hood, Marian of Knighton/Robin of Locksley, Robin Hood/Marian of Knighton
Comments: 12
Kudos: 20





	1. Arsenic

“Come now, we don’t want to be late!”

Your mother ushered you forward with a firm push on the back and you glared at her in response. 

“I doubt we’ll be sorely missed if we’re a few minutes late, mother,” you replied sharply and sat down on the opposite side of the coach, away from your parents.

“You don’t know this sheriff,” she huffed. “He is a very punctual man, does not like to be kept waiting.”

“Well, I find it hard to believe that he’ll be eagerly awaiting _my_ esteemed arrival,” you grumbled and focused your attention outside to peruse the scenery that slowly trickled by as the carriage made its way through the forest.

“Actually, you’ll find that several acquaintances on the council are quite interested in meeting you,” your father said.

“Really?” you replied, one of your eyebrows raised skeptically. “And why’s that?”

“Do you think we’ve gone this whole time without mentioning you?” your mother gawked.

“So you _aren’t_ ashamed of your unmarried daughter who is currently pursuing academics instead of a husband?” 

“Of… of course not,” she replied and cleared her throat as her eyes darted away from your annoyed stare. 

“They’ve been most fascinated in this talk of you performing alchemy,” your father added with a hearty chuckle. “It’s becoming quite the trend for some within the ranks to try their hand at turning cheap metals into gold.”

“Father, I’ve already told you that no alchemist has ever accomplished such a thing,” you replied. “Think of it as an auspicious rumor and nothing more.”

“Nonsense! I’m sure they just haven’t discovered it yet!” he gave you a big grin and took hold of your shoulder to give it an endearing squeeze. “I bet you could though!”

You gave an awkward chuckle. “Right…” 

The remainder of the ride was filled with menial chit-chat on the part of your parents as they tried to play catch up on the finer details of what you did during your time abroad. You were frankly relieved when the carriage was pulled to a stop and the coachman announced that you had arrived.

Stepping out of the carriage you are greeted by an enormous castle, its stone walls stretching high into the sky, locking you in. The plaza was filled with a dozen other horses and carriages and a few guards stationed nearby came over to greet you and your family.

“Welcome to Nottingham,” one said and the two bowed before you. “I trust you’re here for the sheriff’s private dinner party?”

“Yes,” your mother replied. “We aren’t late are we?”

“Not at all!” the other guard said. “If you would follow us, we shall escort you to the great hall.”

“Wonderful!” she grinned and took a tight hold of your arm. “Now, I shouldn’t have to remind you to be on your best behavior, yes?”

“Of course,” you replied curtly and flinched when she squeezed tighter for one second more before relinquishing her grip and following your father’s lead up the stairs.

With a heavy sigh, you followed after them. Heading down several hallways and a set of stairs, the two guards offered your family one last curtsy before they pushed open the large wooden doors and announced your arrival.

Down below, several rows of tables had been set up and they were filled with an assortment of foods. There were rich cuts of venison and pork, wheels of cheeses and baskets of fresh bread. Bowls of fresh fruit and platters of baked goods also intermingled amongst all of the savory options, and several servant boys and girls weaved through the crowd, each holding a pitcher filled with aged wine.

As you neared the bottom of the stairs, you heard someone exclaim,

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite nobles with their notable daughter,” 

Your father chuckled and he and your mother both bowed before a short, balding man with a greying beard wearing luxurious black robes. 

You quickly followed suit and you heard the man laugh to himself.

“Come, we are all friends here, let us dispense with such formalities,” he said and came closer to you. “Is this your little scholar? Hmm?” he asked and gestured to you.

“Yes, my lord,” your mother replied. “She has only just returned from Bologna.”

“Bologna?” he echoed. “Why I’ve heard they’re only second to Paris in terms of their education. But,” he tutted and a mischievous grin spread across his face. “I thought students were granted the status of a cleric by canon, yet here you stand, an educated woman.”

“Oh, well,” she laughed nervously. “She… she was only taught the basics by a friend of ours, a local professor at the university, nothing having to do with the seven liberal arts,” she feigned stupidly.

“Shame,” he quipped. “It’d be nice to discuss the semantics of moral philosophy with someone. I thought you claimed she was trained in alchemy?”

“Did you tell _everyone_ in England that I was a training alchemist?” you snapped.

The man before you laughed. “Spirited! My last alchemist was a meek disappointment, I like it when they have a bit of fire in them.”

You grimaced and scoffed internally. This man was making you _severely_ uncomfortable. 

“Oh, but where are my manners?” he said dramatically and suddenly took a hold of your hand. “I am Vasey, lord of this castle and the town of Nottingham. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the lovely young lady that has managed to capture my interest.”

You felt your skin crawl and it took all the power within you to manage to flash him a shaky, crooked smile. “So,” you said softly and swallowed a lump in your throat. _“You_ must be the sheriff.”

He grinned in response, the sight of a glittering jewel on his left incisor catching your attention. 

“At your service. I’d love to have a chat with you later, my dear, but I won’t keep you from the festivities. Come,” he finally turned away from you to flourish at the literal feast decked out on the tables. “Eat, drink. Take this as a humble offering of friendship.”

“‘Humble’? You are much too gracious, my lord,” your father replied and the sheriff snickered at his praise. 

“Yes, yes. Tell me, my _friend_ , how have things been?” the sheriff wrapped an arm around your father’s shoulders and led him away from you and your mother as they started to discuss something in private.

“Well, that went better than expected,” your mother muttered and grabbed your arm again as she took you to a nearby table with a few empty seats.

A plate of food was all but shoved into your face and although you weren’t particularly hungry, you had an inkling that you should stomach something, lest appear ungrateful. 

You picked at some roasted vegetables, but were grateful for the variety of cheeses available, and paired with the never-ending wine, you were able to find yourself somewhat satiated.

Taking a few more sips from your goblet, you felt your nerves begin to dissipate and you sighed as you leaned back into your chair. 

Your mother was making meaningless conversation with a few other noblewomen beside her and your father, who had long since returned from his escapades with the sheriff, stood nearby, surrounded by a group of men who were all laughing and uproariously shouting about lord knows what. 

Frankly, you did not wish to be pulled into either realm of their faux-pas spectacles so you quickly excused yourself and went over to admire one of the centerpieces. Yes, you were _that_ bored and _that_ stubborn. 

_How much longer do we have to stay here and play nice?_ you thought. The idea of having to speak with the sheriff again made your stomach tie into knots and you sincerely hoped that he’d get so wrapped up in everyone else vying for his attention that he’d forget about you.

You let your fingers trail across the beautiful bird feather that stuck out of the bouquet of flowers and heaved a heavy sigh. 

The more you dwelled on it, the clearer it became that the only reason your parents had ushered you home as quickly as they did, was solely due to your most recent academic undertaking. During your time in Bologna, they hardly sent any correspondence back on updates about your _other_ studies, such as literature or astronomy or even philosophy. However, as soon as you picked up a skill that could be _monetized?_ Their tune switched almost instantly.

Although you had always had a tumultuous relationship with your parents, it saddened you that they viewed this skill of yours as nothing more than an opportunity to further their status. You were an _alchemist_ , someone dedicated to discovering the mysteries of the universe… not a modern-day Midas that could turn piss-poor metals into gold.

Even tonight seemed to be a ploy of some sort. Had they only brought you along because the sheriff was so interested in you? What did they hope to accomplish? 

You frowned and folded your arms across your chest. Something didn’t feel right, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it…

“Excuse me?” 

You paid no mind to whoever had just spoken, lost in your own thoughts as you attempted to deduce your parent's plan.

“Excuse me? My lady?” 

_Ugh,_ you inwardly groaned when you realized they were talking to you. _I suppose I can endure one conversation…_ you thought and hoped it would at least pass the time by. 

Turning around you feel your heart skip a beat when you find a man standing before you, a rather _handsome_ man, you might add. 

He was tall, fair-skinned with short black hair that framed his sharp face. His bright blue eyes seemed to shine in the candlelight and he gave you a smile that made butterflies dance in your stomach. 

“I apologize,” he said and his deep baritone made you gasp quietly in delight. “I did not disturb you, did I?”

“Oh no,” you quickly replied with a shake of your head. “No, I was… simply lost in my own thoughts for a moment. _I_ should be the one apologizing. It was you who called out to me a moment ago, was it not?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I merely wanted to introduce myself,” he explained. “I am Sir Guy of Gisborne, the sheriff’s master at arms.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Guy,” you replied and flashed him a charming smile as you introduced yourself. 

“What a lovely name,” he said and you felt heat rise into your cheeks at his compliment. “I thought it appropriate we meet as I wished to see for myself just who this infamous _alchemist_ the sheriff kept heralding was.”

“Oh,” you replied and tried to mask your disappointment. So he was only interested in getting into your favors to please the sheriff… you supposed you should have anticipated this happening.

“I am curious to know what drew you to the field,” he said. “I heard you studied in Bologna. Do they offer alchemy as a class?”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you could not help the laughter that erupted from you. “What? A class? No,” you chuckled. “No, most schools are run and sourced by the church and I can’t exactly say that the church is the biggest fans of us alchemists.”

“Really?” he mused. “And why is that?”

“We seek to understand the meaning of our place in this world,” you explained. “One of the duties of an alchemist is to answer the great questions of mankind and I suppose trying to scientifically discover the meaning of life goes against the morals of the church.”

“Do your discoveries stray from God, my lady?” he asked you with a smirk. 

“I doubt blasphemy is an appropriate conversation to hold over dinner, Sir Guy,” you replied just as playfully and bit your lip as he laughed.

“Just as well,” he said. “I’m simply surprised. You are so young, I never would have imagined a lovely woman such as yourself would find interest in the sciences.”

“Believe me,” you replied. “Transmutation and metallurgy are _far_ more fascinating than playing the role of the dutiful daughter.”

“You’ve quite the sharp tongue,” he commented and you felt your face turn hot. “Are the churches in Europe far more progressive?”

“Only if they’re paid enough to be,” you replied in a whisper and giggled at the devilish smirk that spread across his lips.

This night was turning out to be more fun after all! It was a first for you to hold a conversation with a man that wasn’t immediately off-put by your wits. Not only that, he could hold his own and was not offended by your rather dicey sense of humor. Where had men like Guy been hiding out for all these years? 

“Ah, Gisborne!” 

The sound of the sheriff’s voice instantly soured your mood and you frowned. Well, tonight _had_ been turning around… 

Vasey paled in comparison to Guy’s stature however, in spite of this, Guy’s previous confident demeanor seemed to shrink under the sheriff’s intense gaze. 

“I see you’ve found the belle of the ball,” he snickered and you laughed awkwardly in response. “I’m not surprised you came sniffing around here.”

“Sir Guy was merely introducing himself, my lord,” you replied. “He’s been engaging company,” you offered Guy a shy smile at his surprised expression.

“Gisborne? Engaging?” the sheriff chortled. “Well, that’s a first. Unless, of course, he jumped straight into discussing his _own_ experiment.” 

“Experiment?” you asked with a raise of your eyebrows. “You conduct experiments, Sir Guy?”

“Only one,” he replied and awkwardly shifted where he stood. “But, that was some time ago.”

“Yes, and it did not end all too well either,” the sheriff scowled. “Tell me, my dear, have you heard of black powder?”

“I can do you one better,” you said matter-of-factly. “I know how to _make_ black powder.”

The sheriff’s eyes widened in shock and he gasped in delight. “You do?” he said softly and then grabbed your hands, holding them reverently as if silently blessing you. “Remarkable, absolutely remarkable.”

“Is… _that_ what your experiment was?” you wondered, hoping that your question would get the sheriff away from you as soon as possible.

It seemed to work and he relinquished his grip to take a step back and nod his head. “Yes. Gisborne here had been in charge of commissioning someone but, unfortunately, he,” the sheriff dragged his finger across his neck and then shrugged his shoulders. “Took his secrets to the grave.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call the formula for black powder a secret,” you replied with a coy smile. “It’s been known by the Cathay Empire since at least the ninth century.”

“So you’re telling me, that if given the right ingredients, you would be able to cook me up a batch of black powder?” the sheriff asked.

“Of course, it’s a simple combination of charcoal and sulfur and—“

Vasey instantly hushed you on any further talk about this formula but assured you that your enthusiasm was very much appreciated. 

“This is good,” he grinned. “This is _very_ good. I should have known you’d be the perfect fit ever since your parents first mentioned you.”

You are clearly confused by his words, your face scrunched up together as you gazed upon him skeptically. “‘Perfect fit’? What are you talking about?”

“Oh,” he hummed. “Did mommy and daddy not tell you? That _does_ add a bit of suspense to it then, hmm?” he laughed. “You, my dear, are to be _my_ alchemist.”

“What?” you blurted out and started to laugh at the utter absurdity of the idea. However, any previous ideas of the sheriff lightheartedly joking with you evaporated into a puff of smoke when you took one long look at him. 

Oh. He was _serious._

“What do you mean I’m to be your alchemist?” you said carefully, your eyes narrowed only slightly.

“Do you think I just let anyone come to these private dinners of mine? A clue?” he shook his head. “No. I wanted to see for myself if you were as noteworthy as your parents heralded you to be and thankfully for you,” he took an imposing step forward and poked you in the chest with one of his stubby fingers. “You’ve passed.”

“My… my parents agreed to this?” you muttered and dread pooled into the pit of your stomach as your eyes whirled around in search of them. 

They were nowhere to be found! Had… had they simply brought you here to be assessed by the sheriff? You weren’t something that could be passed around from one person to the next! You weren’t cattle!

“Where are they?” you seethed and the sheriff seemed to take an uncomfortable amount of glee in your anger. 

“Their business is complete, my dear. My best guess is that they’re off to head back home.”

He made no effort to stop you as you shoved past him and raced up the stairs to make it to the courtyard. 

Your heavy breaths fogged up in the chilled night air and the white light of the moon caused an eerie glow to fall on the shadows of the nearby coaches. You could hear a pair of voices whispering in a hushed tone as you neared your family’s personal carriage, anger coursing through your veins when you rounded the corner and came face-to-face with your parents.

“What have you done?” you snarled, catching them both by surprise.

“Darling!” your mother exclaimed and gave you a nervous smile. “What… what are you doing here? Surely you do not wish to miss the last half of the supper?”

“Save the act, mother,” you replied bitterly. “He already told me.”

“Told you what?”

The fact that she still tried to play innocent made your blood boil and you exclaimed, “He told me that I am to be his personal alchemist!” your feet stomped across the hard stone and you pointed an accusatory finger at the pair of them. “I am _not_ some commodity to be passed around! First Bologna, now this? If you wanted me gone, at least spare me the theatrics and tell me outright.”

“Why would you say such a thing?” your father interjected. “You know we only want what is best for you!”

“That’s rich,” you replied sardonically.

“Watch your tongue, missy,” your mother snapped.

“No,” you quipped. “Do not lie and say that this decision was made with my best interests in mind when you and I both know that this is yet another cog in playing your roles as the sheriff’s loyal lapdogs—"

_Smack!_

The sound of a palm striking across bare skin rings out into the deathly quiet pavilion.

Your eyes are wide with shock and you feel tears start to well up and cloud your vision as you place a hand on your bruised cheek. 

Your father huffed as he lowered his hand and gave you a menacing glare. “Now, I tolerated this attitude of yours when you returned from Bologna, believing you were scorned having been taken away from your studies prematurely. But this willfulness stops now. You are going to work for Vasey and that’s final,” he turned away to begin hauling himself into the carriage. 

“Perhaps _he_ will be the one to finally beat this resilience out of you.”

Your mother said nothing but her cold, piercing stare revealed all that you needed to know as she followed after your father. 

When the carriage pulled out of the castle portcullis and receded from your view down the winding road of Nottingham, you released an arduous sigh. 

You were silent as you ran in the direction of a nearby wall, hidden in the shadows and away from prying eyes. You rested your forehead against the stone, its natural chill cooling your heated skin. It was only then, did you allow the tears to fall.

You gasped as a torrent of tears streamed down your face and you weakly slammed your fist against the stone wall. 

They had abandoned you… _again._

You slowly crumbled into a heap on the floor, tucking your knees into your chest as you wiped away your tears with your sleeve. Were you the one to blame here? You always prided yourself on your sense of independence and headstrong attitudes, but could this have been your very ondoing? 

Bologna, you thought, despite giving your parents this newfound opportunity to brag about having an alchemist in the family, had not been nearly as successful in stomping out your spirit as initially hoped. Was Nottingham supposed to take its place then? 

While you had been in Italy, for a brief moment, you almost felt in control of your life. The opportunity to both grow academically and spiritually had been life-changing. Your mind has been opened to the endless possibilities and questions that encompassed the human spirit and it was with this newfound knowledge that you were able to _finally_ act independently. 

Your whole life up until that point had been dictated by your parents, from what you wore, to what you ate, to even the company you kept. It took being sent thousands of miles away from home to make you truly feel _alive._

However, you should have known that this feeling of boundless freedom was never meant to last. Sooner or later they would have you crawling back to England, willingly or not, and once again, it was impossible to not feel both incredibly powerless and incredibly frustrated. 

You’d had your first taste at _real_ purpose, one that you pursued wholeheartedly, and now that had been stolen from you as well. 

No matter how hard you vied for change, the end result was always the same and an overwhelming sadness encompasses you at this realization, one that settles into the very marrow of your bones. 

You took a gander up at the night sky, the stars twinkling brightly alongside the white light of the moon. Your eyes fluttered shut as you took a deep breath, your shoulders sagging from exhaustion as the reality of the situation caught up with you.

This… was your home now, this was your _life_ now. You supposed it could be worse but you doubted that the sting left behind from this sense of _betrayal_ would ever leave your bruised heart. 

The sound of metal spurs clicking against the stone caught your attention and you're rooted to the spot as a figure emerged from the shadows and towered above you.

“Are you alright?”

Your eyes widened in surprise when Sir Guy appeared in the moonlight, his face creased with worry as he kneeled down before you. 

Turning your head away from him, you cough into the crook of your arm and wave off his concern.

“Yes, I’m… I’m alright,” you said softly, trying to hide the tremble in your voice. “I just needed some time alone.”

He’s quiet and you hear the leather of his pants squeak as he adjusts his footing. “Do you wish to be alone?” he wondered. “The sheriff was worried when you did not return, so he sent me after you. I can tell him that you already went off to bed if you’d like.”

Your lips upturned into a smile and although your eyes were surely red and your cheeks surely puffy, you turned to face him to express your gratitude. 

“That’s very kind of you, Sir Guy. I do not think I would be able to face the sheriff in the near future.”

“I’m assuming you spoke to your parents?” 

You sighed and titled your head up to look back up at the dozens of stars that dotted the night sky. “Was it that obvious?” you replied dryly. “I was left with no say in the matter. It appears as though this had been their plan all along,” 

“I hope you understand that you will not be treated as a prisoner here,” he said and you scoffed in response. 

“Then why does it feel like it?” 

You nearly jump out of your skin when Guy places a tentative hand on your shoulder and you look at him, absolutely bewildered.

“I apologize… if this isn’t exactly the life you envisioned. However, I assure you that life here in the castle isn’t _completely_ unbearable.”

“Oh?” you said and felt yourself relax when you picked up the sudden playfulness in his tone. 

“Once in a while, you’ll meet someone that turns this place around,” he said with a knowing smile and you laughed. 

“I don’t know,” you replied. “I doubt even your charming company could help me warm up to this place.”

“It’s not all bad,” he said and you would be remiss to say that you weren’t disappointed when he removed his hand from your shoulder. 

“Since Nottingham is at the center of this shire, all of the villages are in relatively close proximity. It’s a nice escape to visit every once in a while.”

“Would the sheriff even _allow_ me to go anywhere?” you asked cynically. “Seems to me the only reason I’m here is to be his alchemist.”

“I am not sure what your parents told you, but you are a guest here in the castle,” Guy replied earnestly. “I know the sheriff may seem rather… _eccentric,_ but you are now a valued member of his team. Think of being his alchemist as your job. Even the farmers that toil in the fields all day have time to rest, recuperate, maybe visit the market,”

You finally brought your eyes to meet his and felt your heart skip a beat at the smile on his face. 

“I’m sure this must be incredibly jarring, being brought home from Bologna only to be thrust here of all places,” he said sympathetically. “In time, however, I am sure you will learn to see this place as a second home.”

His kind words helped dull the sting you had previously been feeling, nevertheless it was hard to remain optimistic in such a situation. For now, you supposed you could get by with exuding a facade of collective composure, at least long enough till you decided how you truly felt about this place. 

You reached over and gave Guy’s arm a reassuring squeeze, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Thank you, Sir Guy,” you said. “I… I will try.”

He smiled and got up from the floor and offered you his gloved hand. You took it and in one strong pull, he hoisted you up. 

“If you’d like,” he said. “I could show you to your room.”

“That would be lovely,” you replied with a smile. “Thank you.”

You shyly wrapped your arms around the one he politely extended to lead and the two of you silently began to walk through the halls of Nottingham castle. 

It was much bigger than you initially anticipated and if it weren’t for Guy, you surely would have gotten lost. You started to worry about the following morning and sincerely hoped that the sheriff would send someone down to fetch you lest you wander off into an unsavory part of the castle.

The halls were sparsely decorated with various weapons and tapestries but nothing too extravagant, which you found a little odd considering the sheriff’s rather audacious wardrobe choice. 

Walking up a set of stairs, Guy leads you down a hallway before slowly coming to a stop before a large wooden door. 

“This is where you shall be staying,” he said and pulled it open for you.

It was fairly large and furnished with a bed, desk, armoire, and even a fireplace. It did not exactly feel very homey but, for now, it would do. 

“Feel free to request anything that you may need with any of the guards stationed around,” Guy said. “They’ll fetch anything so long as they can find it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you replied and dragged your hand across the blanket that lay on top of the bed. It was surprisingly very soft.

“And, if you’d like, I could give you a tour of the castle tomorrow, to help you familiarize yourself with its layout. I know how confusing it looks to first-time visitors.” 

“That would be very helpful,” you said and turned back to face him. “Thank you, Sir Guy—for everything. It’s reassuring to know that I have at least one friend here.”

His eyes lit up and he gifted you another stunning smile before he bowed his head. “Of course, milady. I will be here at your beck and call, all you need to do is ask.”

You giggled and curtsied as you said, “You are too kind to me. I will see you tomorrow, then?”

He nodded his head. “Of course. Till then, I wish you a pleasant rest of your evening, milady,” he said and departed with one last glance, closing your door with a quiet _click._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi there :) 
> 
> this has been a simple passion project of mine that i started shortly after rewatching robin hood for the first time in a couple of years. obviously, if u couldn't already tell, i'm a big sap for guy so of course i'm writing a fic about him. as i mentioned in the tags, im treating this story as my own self-indulgent fix-it towards the canon story, so expect this one to take some unexpected turns if you're familiar with the arcs that take place in the second season. 
> 
> for quick context, i've imagined that this chapter takes place shortly after the events of "the booby & the beast" & as this story progresses, you'll be able to pin-point exactly where we are in the narrative. i have most of the story already completed so expect updates every weekend or so :) 
> 
> >>also i know the tags spell vasey's name as 'vaisey' but the subtitles for my robin hood dvds spell it like the former so that's what we're using 
> 
> anywho, i hope that u enjoy this story. i've had a lot of fun writing it. i've loved robin hood for over 10 years now so it's about time i wrote something for it!! see you next week lovelies <3


	2. Sulfur

The following morning you awoke with a start. Someone was rapping on your chamber door.

Hastily wrapping your blanket around yourself, you heed their call, albeit begrudgingly. There’s a clear grimace on your face as you peer at the guard that stood at the ready for your answer and he bows before you.

“Good morning, my lady. I’m sorry to disturb you, but the sheriff requires your presence in his quarters.”

“At this hour?” you replied dryly. With a sigh, you give him a nod of your head. “I’ll be with you shortly,” you excused yourself and slipped the dress from the night before over your chemise. 

You made a mental note to peruse the seamstresses and fabric sellers in the area later. If you were going to stay here, you could at least keep up with the latest fashions.

After fixing your hair and splashing some cold water on your face, you exited your room and started to follow the guard that walked down the halls with post-haste. 

Several winding hallways later and you stood in front of a large wooden door that had two more soldiers posted on either side as watchmen. They each gave a nod to the guard that escorted you and together, pushed open the door to the sheriff’s quarters.

The room was large and furnished with an enormous desk made of a dark, almost black colored wood. A fireplace stood nearby, the logs burning in the hearth crackling away. Several bookshelves were placed around the room, all of them packed with various maps and tomes, and curiously, there was an assortment of birdcages.

You peered up at the tiny, straw things, each of them filled with a variety of songbirds and finches. Their tiny, peeping cries mingled with the sound of the town below as folks prepared their wares for the morning market. 

The sheriff was seated at his desk, scribbling away on a large piece of parchment with a rather ridiculously oversized quill. 

Sir Guy stood beside him and you felt your heart flutter at his acknowledging smile. He cleared his throat and tapped the sheriff on the shoulder.

“My lord, she’s arrived.”

His head instantly snapped up and his eyes widened in delight. “Indeed she has,” he said and gave you a crooked smile. “Thank you,” he addressed the guard. “You may leave us.”

The soldier bowed before the sheriff and took his leave, closing the doors behind him with a loud _slam._

“You’re probably wondering why I summoned you here, my dear,” he said and ushered you forward with a beckon of his hand. 

You took the few tentative steps forward to reach the edge of his desk and he gave you another smile.

“There’s no need to look so worried,” he assured. “I merely wanted to check-in, see how things are going.”

“Check-in?” you repeated, absolutely dumbfounded. You’d been taken from your studies, only to be dropped off on this conniving little man’s doorstep as his upcoming entertainment and he wanted to know how you were _doing?_

You were in such shock that you couldn’t even bring yourself to _think_ of a reply, so the sheriff took your silence as his cue to continue.

“I trust that your room is to your satisfaction? I tried my best to find one that’d be easy for you to find. Can’t have my alchemist accidentally wandering off somewhere unsavory now can we?”

You coughed up a weary laugh in response. “Yes, I’ll admit, it’s going to take some getting used to, but I’ll manage.”

“Good,” he nodded. “I hear that Gisborne offered to give you the grand tour, hmm?” he chuckled. “I bet it’s high time you see where it is you’ll be working.”

“I’ll be working here? In the castle?” you raise an eyebrow up at him skeptically.

“Of course. Guy will show you,” he said and flourished his hand up at Gisborne. “Oh, and while you’re out,” he added. “Perhaps you could take the lovely young lady shopping? I doubt she’s keen to join your club of wearing the same dreary thing every day.” 

You noticed Guy roll his eyes but he nodded his head at the sheriff’s request. “Very well,” he said and turned to face you.

His expression softened significantly and he gave you another smile. “If you would follow me, my lady,” 

Giving the sheriff a curtsy, you quickly departed his office and let out a long sigh of relief as you walked out into the hallway. 

There was just something about that man… he was _so_ unsettling to be around!

A gentle hand outstretched onto your shoulder and you craned your neck up to look at Guy. 

“I could show you to the lab first if you wish.”

Your interest is immediately peaked and your eyes light up as you smile brightly. “Lab? There’s a lab in the castle?”

He chuckled and started to lead the way, keeping his pace slow and leisurely. “Of course. Where else would you work?”

“To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t the slightest clue what entailed working as the sheriff’s personal alchemist,” you said lightly. “For a moment, I presumed he’d have me presiding over some rubble in the hopes that I’d turn it to gold.”

Guy chuckled. “That’d be quite the trick,” he said and you felt your cheeks burn under his stare. “But, the sheriff has proved himself to be a man of many interests and his pursuit of alchemy has always been on the more scientific side.”

“Really? I find that surprising. Most nobles only attach alchemy with the ridiculous notion of _chrysopoeia_. What makes the sheriff so different?”

“He’s seen what real alchemy can do,” Guy said and paused before a wrought iron door. With a tug of the large, circular doorknob, you are greeted with a wondrous sight.

The room was gigantic. Long wooden shelves hung suspended in the air by ropes, each one of them packed to the brim with all sorts of paraphernalia. Tall, curved windows allowed slits of sunlight to breach through the darkness of the stone castle and you gasped in delight. 

Running over to more closely inspect the ingredients and tools, you were pleasantly surprised that Guy had been right with his assessment of the sheriff. Most of the jars were filled with a variety of herbs, gemstones, powders, and liquids. It was a bit of a mess, and a great deal of dust had settled over the room from unuse but… you could definitely make do with this.

“What do you think?” Guy wondered.

“It needs a bit of work to get back to its former glory, but,” your lips split into another grin as you discovered a few tomes tucked between some flasks. “This is more than I could have hoped for,”

Guy’s boots clicked softly against the stone floor as he made his way towards you. “I’m glad. Do you think you’ll have everything you need? I know it’s been awhile since anyone has worked here.” 

“I’ll have to take inventory of everything that’s here,” you replied. “Which… may take a while.”

“I should leave you to it then,” he said and bowed before you. “While you’re working, I’ll have someone head to the market and fetch you some clothes.”

“Oh, there’s no need to do that. I can do it myself—”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted with a smile. “It’s no trouble, really. Is there any particular style that you’d prefer?”

“No,” you chuckled. “As long as I get something to wear other than _this,”_ you gesture to your worn-out gown. “I’ll be content. At least tell me that you’ll accept any payments I forward for your generosity.”

“That won’t be necessary. Your parents already forwarded more than enough money to help pay for your keep, not that they needed to, as the sheriff was more than happy having you simply work here in the castle.”

“Oh…” you replied and disappointment flashed across your face. They really _had_ been planning for this to happen all along, hadn’t they? 

You felt a hand on your shoulder and jumped, heat rising to your cheeks when you realized how close Guy stood before you. 

“Work should help take your mind off things,” he replied with a sympathetic smile. 

“Yes… you make a good point, Sir Guy,” you reached up and gave his arm a squeeze, grateful for not only his company but his friendship as well. 

His eyes widened slightly at the gesture and he retracted his hand as he cleared his throat. “The sheriff will most likely stop by at some point, to check on your progress. I’m not sure when he expects you to begin work on the black powder, but he is not a man that likes to be kept waiting.”

You frowned and heaved a heavy sigh. “I’ll see what I can do.”

With one final curtsy, Guy exited the lab, leaving you alone to begin the arduous work of whipping this place back into shape. 

Rolling up your sleeves, you managed to find some old rags nestled on a shelf and after pounding them out one of the windows, you got to it. The amount of dust in the room frankly astonished you and it took a good few hours to simply wipe everything down. 

Wiping some sweat off your brow, you checked over the flasks and tools you had let sit in a vat of warm saltwater. It seemed to be doing the trick, years of grime easily sloughing off the glass and metal and turning the water a nasty brown. It had to be changed several times till they were cleaned to your satisfaction and when they were done soaking, you laid them out on one of the desks to let them dry. 

To the surprise of no one, it took you the most time to sort through all of the materials that had accumulated here since the last alchemist. A majority of the items were useful, powders, and caustic liquids that could be used in your research. However, a fair amount of it proved to be nothing more than junk and near the end of your sifting, there was a fairly large pile haphazardly strewn about near the door. 

The one thing that _did_ catch you by surprise, was the wide array of books that had been preserved. They were legitimate books on alchemy and you started to wonder how the sheriff acquired these. Most alchemists were hellbent on only ever sharing their texts with fellow researchers as it took so long to produce the images, the _decknamen,_ that hide the secret code of their formulas. These were all wonderfully done and although you could decipher most of them, there were a few that caught your eye as you flipped through the pages and you made a mental note to revisit them for further analysis.

You’re broken out of your reverie by the sound of the heavy door being pulled open and in walked the sheriff, one of his guards trailing closely behind him.

He made a face at the pile of discarded items and carefully stepped around the random objects scattered across the floor.

“Doing a little redecorating?” he teased.

“Most of that is rubbish, my lord,” you replied. “It is of no use to me.”

He glanced down at the large heap and then turned his attention back to you. “Well, well, I must say, it does please me that you’ve taken this with such stride,” he slowly walked over to you, his head turning around as he inspected the work you’d done thus far. “This place almost looks brand new.”

“I must admit, it was rather filthy,” you said and wiped your hands clean with a rag. “When was this lab last in use?”

“Oh, not for some time,” he mused and peered down at all of the flasks that lay drying. “My last alchemist preceded a pretty boy that wasn’t a pretty boy at all,” he chuckled to himself. “Although I have to admit, their alchemy was quite lovely. Tell me, have you ever heard of liquid that can melt through solid iron?”

“Sounds like _aqua fortis_ to me,”

The sheriff beamed up at you and he clapped his hands together in delight. “Goodness me, where have you been all my life? I trust that you will begin work on the black powder that you promised, now that this place is so spick and span.”

“Of course, my lord. Curiously, the only ingredient I seem to be lacking is charcoal.”

“Charcoal?” he echoed. “Run of the mill, fire-burnt charcoal?”

“Yes,” you replied firmly. “I have everything else I need and once I have all the materials, I’ll be able to play with the ratios a bit to get the desired reaction. Did you previous alchemists _really_ not know all this?”

“They were not you, my dear,” he replied and gave one of your arms a strong squeeze. “See to it that the lovely lady gets her charcoal,” he said to the soldier, who nodded his head and hastily made his way out of the lab. “Once everything is in place… how much do you think you’d be able to make?”

“As long as I have all the ingredients at my disposal, I can make you as much as you desire, my lord.”

His eyes lit up, like a child that’d been handed a whole pie as a treat. “Oh, you sweet girl, you will have such a _remarkable_ future here. I’ll make sure to fetch Gisborne when he’s back from the market. He oversaw our previous efforts into concocting black powder so I believe he’ll be able to assist you in replicating the results we managed to achieve.”

“Were your previous efforts successful?”

“Mm… yes and no. He commissioned a man who turned out to have other plans,” he said, face taught and tone laced with acidity. “We ended up with nothing so, forgive me if I ever seem at all forthright in my advances to move this project along. Which reminds me…” he mused and tapped a finger to his lips. “Are you in the habit of keeping notes of your work? A ledger, perhaps?”

“Of course,” you nodded. “However, as most alchemists do, I tend to encrypt my findings, my lord.”

“Hmm, well, just for me, do you think you’d be able to keep a log of your findings so that I may peruse them at my leisure?” 

“I suppose I could,” you said carefully. “Although I doubt even then, you’d be able to make much sense of it.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright,” he said with a chipper smile. “So, I doubt you’ll be able to make much progress till we’re back with that charcoal of yours. Feel free to take a stroll, occupy your time. Just make sure you stay inside the castle.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He gave you one last grin as he started to hum to himself, gleefully departing the room with an extra pip in his step. 

You thought it rather odd that he should desire access to your notes. For what purpose would that serve him? Did he perhaps wish to market your formula to other lords in the shire? That wouldn’t be a bad play, he’d surely make a considerable amount of money. You could only hope that if these were his true intentions, you’d receive some of the profit as you sincerely doubted that the funds your parents sent for your keep would ever end up in anyone’s pockets _but_ the sheriff’s.

Walking outside, you make your way through several hallways and commend yourself for finding the exit on your first try. The courtyard was mostly empty, with a few soldiers standing here or there at their posts. The portcullis was open and you could see all of the townsfolk going about their day, the busy hum of the market seeping into the quiet castle.

In fact, that is where you were headed until you noticed someone sitting on one of the stone benches that rested under a tree. 

It was a woman, with beautiful, curly brown hair that rested on her shoulders. She had a fair face and bright green eyes and appeared to be working on some sort of embroidery. 

You’re instantly intrigued. Who was she? She dressed far too opulent to be a servant so did she also work for the sheriff? The least you could do was introduce yourself.

You gently cleared your throat as you approached her and she lifted her head up to meet your gaze. Her lips upturned into a courteous smile and she set aside her project as she spoke up.

“Hello,” she said, her sweet voice having a lovely quality to it. “How can I help you?”

“Oh, well, I thought it pertinent to introduce myself to anyone else that I meet, since I’m the newest resident here in the castle.”

One of her finely shaped eyebrows quirked up, her curiosity peaked. “What business do you have at the castle?”

“I am the sheriff’s recently appointed alchemist.”

“Alchemist?” she gaped. “You’re an _alchemist?”_

“Indeed,” you replied with a nod of your head and introduced yourself. 

“It’s lovely to meet you,” she replied. “I am Marian of Knighton.”

You gestured towards the bench and she immediately patted the spot beside her as she accepted your invitation to sit down. 

“Knighton? Isn’t that where the former sheriff hailed from?”

“That’s my father,” she said fondly. “I find it intriguing that a woman should be a scientist, especially one that’s managed to capture the sheriff’s attention.”

“Yes well, I’m not exactly here on my own volition,” you said and laughed quietly as a weary smile spread across your face.

“That doesn’t surprise me since you’re working for the sheriff.”

You’re intrigued that she seems to share, even understand your sentiments. “Do you work for the sheriff as well?” you wondered.

“No,” she chuckled. “I… I suppose one could call me a _guest_ if the meaning of guest has since become synonymous with _hostage.”_

You gasped and it was only then did she seem to register the gravity of her words.

“Forgive me,” she hastily muttered. “I speak out of turn—”

“No,” you replied. “I… this might sound strange, but… I understand how you feel.”

“You do?” she sounded genuinely surprised, but you could sense that her sincerity bordered on suspicion.

“Lady Marian, my passions lie in academia so that is where I found myself these last couple of years, studying in Italy under the guidance of fellow academics,”

“Impressive.”

You smiled and then heaved a sad sigh. “I would have been content spending the rest of my days there, relishing in new discoveries and learning as much as my heart desired. However, my parents had other plans. They’ve always been the sort to stick close to those up-in-coming to power, so it should come as no surprise that they did all they could to get into the new sheriff’s favors.”

“Are you saying that they dragged you here? To Nottingham?” 

“Indeed,” you replied. “They must have surmised how beneficial my most recent undertaking could be for them since the most they probably understood about alchemy is the infamous notion of turning cheap metals into gold. I was sent back home only to be dropped off here, presented to the sheriff on a silver platter.”

Her face was creased with concern and she placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s truly an awful thing, what your parents did. I cannot imagine what that must feel like.”

You chuckled, a bitter sound that made your stomach turn as you recalled the events that took place only the night before. “I think the worst part of it all was having to find out from the _sheriff_ that I was to be staying here.”

Marian scoffed. “They didn’t even have the courage to tell you themselves?”

“No,” you said forlornly. “I probably would have gone mad that day had it not been for Sir Guy.”

“Guy?” she echoed, her tone laced with shock. 

“He’s been nothing but kind since I’ve arrived,” you said and a smile curled at the ends of your lips. However, you picked up on the change in her voice and turned to her, head cocked to the side as you added, “You know him?”

“You could say that…”

Her gaze shifted to the side, her eyes narrowed slightly as her lips were pursed into a tight, thin line. You could sense that she had something on her mind, although she seemed reluctant to reveal it to you. 

You were sincerely not in the mood to deal with anyone else that felt the need to hide things from you, you’d had enough of that for _two_ lifetimes. 

“What is it?” your voice was taught and had an edge to it that made her immediately look back up at you.

She sighed hopelessly in response and fiddled with the string that was still tied around the eye of her needle. 

“I do not believe it is my place to say,”

“If you feel the need to blatantly lie to my face then I can only assume that you do _in fact_ have something to say on the matter,”

She gaped at your harsh tone, however, she took no offense to your anger. On the contrary, she believed you had every right to be upset. She knew all too well what it felt like to have your life uprooted at the whims of powerful people and not only that, have your emotions completely tossed to the side as well. It was unfair for her to hide what she knew about Guy’s true nature from you to spare your feelings, after all, she knew how truly _dangerous_ he was. 

She had to approach this carefully, not wanting to overstep her own boundaries and all-but crucifying the man you believed was a true friend, the only person thus far in Nottingham that treated you with an ounce of respect. But Marian knew better than to expect that Guy was doing this all out of the goodness of his own heart. Knowing him, there must certainly be an ulterior motive for his actions. It pained her to do so, seeing how much faith you’d already put in him, but the truth had to be revealed.

“I’ve known Guy for some time,” she began and inched closer to you. “He and I became acquaintances shortly after the sheriff arrived in town. Back then, Vasey was a nobleman, one that had been sent down by Prince John himself on the excuse that he was to assess the state of things here in Nottingham county. As I’m sure you know, my father was usurped by Vasey for the role of sheriff and we had no say in the matter, not unless we wanted to be deemed as traitors of the crown,”

There was a deep frown on your face and Marian’s eyes widened in surprise when one of your hands reached out to gently hold one of her own. 

“I’m terribly sorry about what you and your father went through,” you said genuinely and she smiled gratefully in response. “I was curious as to what befell the previous sheriff since from what I can remember, I always took him as the sort of man that would live out the end of his days doing his job.”

At that, Marian laughed. “You’d be quite right in that assumption. My father loved his job. He fell in love with the people of Nottingham and he did everything in his power to ensure that the law was upheld fairly. It seems Prince John had other plans, however, which called for someone a little more lacking in sympathies.”

She appeared lost in thought for a moment, reminiscing on simpler times that she often longed for in retrospect to how things were now. After a moment, she offered you a shy smile and continued with her story. 

“At first, I found myself growing fond of Guy’s much quieter disposition compared to the sheriff. Despite initially being wary of the two since Vasey came into my father’s position, I appreciated the time that Guy took to ensure that both my father and I were well looked after and taken care of. We were key players in Nottingham, after all, and the sheriff would be a fool to completely toss aside my father, someone that had garnered the trust of most of the nobles that still ran the council. Not to mention, he still had the overwhelming support of the people behind him as well. It wasn’t until Guy was appointed Lord of Locksley that everything started to change,”

Marian took a moment to meticulously choose her next words for she noticed the wariness that had startled to take its hold on you from the ominous shift in her tone. 

“Guy has always been one that values power and loyalty,” she explained. “However, it wasn’t until he was given the estate that I was able to see first hand just how far he’d go in order to obtain those things. The man I once thought of as a shy, inexperienced up-and-coming lieutenant, had evolved into a _monster,”_

“Monster?” you’re completely taken aback. Your hand rested over your heart from shock and you felt your body subconsciously lean away from her, appalled that Marian could ever say such a thing. 

“Listen to me,” she said urgently. “You were not here these last five years, I have seen first-hand the things he’s done! What he’s capable of! I’ve…I…” her voice trailed off, a tightness in her throat beginning to overwhelm her as tears started to prick at the corner of her eyes.

Your stomach sank at the sight, regret immediately beginning to gnaw away at your previous dismissal of her words from the raw _despair_ breaking out on her once confident visage. 

“I was a _part_ of it…” a few tears slipped past her defenses and she stubbornly turned her head from you as she attempted to quickly wipe them away. 

You tentatively reach out and place a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. A million possibilities were swimming around in your head as you attempted to deduce what could have possibly happened between the two of them. However, whatever the outcome turned out to be, it was clear that it had left a deep emotional scar on Lady Marian’s heart.

“It’s alright,” you said softly and rubbed your thumb in slow, comforting circles. “If it is too painful to dwell on, my lady, I put no pressure on you to tell me. Your message rings out loud enough without having to tell me forthright,”

She sniffled and shakily wrapped one of her hands around your welcoming embrace, gingerly removing it from her shoulder to place both of your hands in her lap. When she deemed herself composed enough, she turned back around to finally face you once again. 

“I appreciate your kind words,” she said with a small smile. “It is not every day that I come across someone so understanding. But…” she let a sad sigh slip past her lips before steeling her resolve, staring at you with renewed vigor. “You deserve to know about my history with Guy, you deserve to know about—”

“Excuse me, my lady?”

Both of you are startled when a guard calls out to you from the steps and you quickly clear your throat to respond.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, sending a curious glance at Marian. “But Sir Guy wanted to inform you that your charcoal has arrived and that he is waiting for you in the laboratory.”

“I see,” you replied tersely. “Very well, tell him that I shall be up shortly,”

The guard nodded and with a curt bow, he was off in a flash to deliver your message to Guy.

The conflict was apparent in your gaze as you turned your focus back to Marian and she gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Go,” she stated. “Consider our conversation tabled for now,”

“I’m sure it will not kill him to wait a few moments,”

She laughed at your snide comment, the sound genuine and full of light. It brought a smile of your own to your face. 

“It would pain me for you to fall into any sort of trouble your first day here,” she confessed. Giving your hand a tight squeeze, she relinquished her hold on you and got up from her seat, picking up her abandoned embroidery pattern and tucking it under her arm. “I promise that we shall continue this conversation. There is only so much time I can spend embroidering,” she teased. “And I happen to know where the lab is located so, who knows? Perhaps I will make an unexpected visit… or two.”

You grinned and hopped off the bench, a newfound excitement coursing through your veins as the prospect of having a new, _true_ friend presented itself to you. 

“Well, who am I to deny such a request?”

Marian laughed again and offered you another heartfelt smile as she playfully hoped you’d make do with your promise, before heading towards one of the many arched doorways and disappearing back into the castle.

You found it hard to mask the smile that was still plastered on your face, overjoyed at meeting someone that you could wholeheartedly trust. 

All at once though, a bitter taste filled your mouth as your previous feelings for the dashing master of arms came back round. Simply put, you quickly derived that the persona he’d presented to you thus far greatly strayed away from his true human nature. The very thought that he’d been using your confusion and betrayal from the circumstances of your arrival for you to trust him cause you to inwardly shudder. If you had not met Marian, what else would he have lied about to get you in his good graces? 

Anxiety bubbled its way through your chest as you slowly ascended the stairs that lead up to the laboratory. How were you to approach the situation? Should you act as though nothing has changed? Should you distance yourself from him? Tell him to leave altogether?

As much as you wished you could outright dismiss his advances, you knew that it would be impossible to completely avoid Sir Guy due to how intimately involved he was with this project. 

You cursed yourself at how easily you’d allowed yourself to become enamored with him from his dashing appearance alone. How could you ever forget that looks can be deceiving? 

Your heart started to beat erratically against your rib cage, your breathing slightly labored as you stood before the heavy, intimidating iron door. The following hours were inevitable, your fate having long been sealed since you walked through the castle doors the night before. You knew it served no purpose to stall this out any longer than need be, so gathering up your courage, you tugged on the handle and walked inside. 

You immediately noticed Guy standing off in the corner beside a few barrels that held the charcoal the sheriff had so dutifully fetched for you. Upon hearing your arrival, a smile lights up his face and he makes a beeline towards you.

Your feet appear to have a mind of their own, backing up a few paces as he closed in on you, effectively keeping the two of you apart.

This does not go unnoticed. Guy’s eyes flash with an unreadable emotion, his smile faltering until it fades altogether. The air around you is stifling and when you make no move to speak, he goes rigid, his shoulders squaring back and he clears his throat behind one of his gloved hands. 

“The charcoal that you requested has arrived,” he said cooly and stepped aside, keeping a firm distance between the both of you.

If you hadn’t known any better, you’d say he almost looked _offended_ at your behavior and although you desperately wished to solidify any thoughts he had that you wanted nothing more to do with him, you had to remind yourself that he was your superior. You had no powerful friends here, no family that could protect you should you say the wrong thing or step on the wrong toes. You were all alone and for that, you had to ensure that those who unfortunately held your life in the balance held no ill-will towards you. 

A shaky, half-hearted smile managed to find its way on your face, even if it did not reach your eyes. “Thank you,” you said softly and gracefully walked over towards the barrels to get a better look.

In spite of everything, you were astounded that they had managed to scrounge up so much material so quickly. 

“I’m impressed that they were able to find as much as they did,” you commented. “Your men work fast.”

Guy seemed to relax slightly from your words and he nodded his head. “It is their job. I’m pleased that it is to your satisfaction,”

“You’ve _more_ than exceeded my expectations, Sir Guy,” you replied and felt your stomach turn at how his eyes sparkled in delight at your compliment. 

Well, at least he was easily fooled by your act of professionalism.

He took a few timid steps towards you, as if you were a wild animal that he’d scare off should he approach too quickly. “I understand both the sheriff and I have told you I once worked on a project in patenting a formula for black powder, but I must admit that I will be of little help to you in this endeavor,”

The prospect of having him leave you to work on this alone had you silently thanking whatever gods were at play, but you never let that relief shine through.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” you replied. “If you were able to see the product in action, that would help me attempt to replicate the effects with my own ratios,”

“Really?”

He was genuinely surprised and you nodded your head.

“Yes. Any details that you can remember, anything at all, will give me the best shot at ensuring that you get the most out of the batches I’m able to create,” 

Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill, you sat down on one of the stools and pointed at the one in front of you as an indication for Guy to follow suit. The next hour or so was spent with you furiously scribbling down notes as you listened intently to Guy’s previous experience with black powder.

It was here that you learned the previous alchemist’s name had been Lambert and his formula was certainly an _explosive_ one. You were impressed by the picture Guy painted. Lambert demonstrated that by using a trail of black powder that led to a small, compact source, the charge could be controlled and ensured maximum energy output while simultaneously being safe enough for commercial use. The resulting explosion had been powerful, creating a crater in the ground large enough for the sheriff to comfortably stand in. 

You asked several other questions, wondering how the fire had interacted with the fuse or the consistency and color of the powder itself. By the end, you surmised that you had enough information to finally begin your work.

“I appreciate your help, Sir Guy,” you placed your notes on the nearby counter, your eyes scanning over them as you reread a few key points.

“I’m glad that I could be of assistance,” he mused and placed a hand on your shoulder.

It took all the strength within you not to flinch at his touch and you hoped that he’d take the hint you wished to get started and excuse himself on his own accord.

His hand lingered for longer than you would have liked and you heard him say, “I will leave you to your work then, milady. If you require any further assistance, please don’t hesitate to ask,”

“Thank you,” 

When the door finally closed behind you, a breath you hadn’t known you were holding escaped you in a long, arduous sigh. You rub your temples with the pads of your fingers in an attempt to dull the throbbing behind your eyes, both physically and mentally exhausted from the unfolding of the day’s events. You’d gone from trusting this man to not wanting to have anything to do with him in the span of twenty-four hours. You could almost akin the feeling to whiplash.

The bells of the nearby church tolling out the arrival of another hour brought your focus back to the task at hand. There was no time for you to dwell too much on Sir Guy’s motives, not when the sheriff expected quick results on an assignment you so keenly promised to deliver. 

However, even as you pushed your troubling thoughts aside, there was one thing you came to agree upon; Sir Guy was _not_ to be trusted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh miss marian, i'm going to treat you good in this story. i know!! i know!! i've already made things so dicey this early but trust me, it'll be worth it!! i hope if you're reading this story that you're enjoying it thus far. even seeing that it got a few more hits made me happy :) i know how tiny this community is, so i just hope that i can create a lovely little addition to our small library of stories <3


	3. Tin

A heavy feeling settles into the pit of your stomach as you gaze upon yourself in the mirror. Your hand trails across the hem of the dress that adorns your figure, the cotton fabric soft against your fingers, and decorated in various trims that only confirmed your suspicions that it must have been quite expensive. 

You took another deep breath in an attempt to calm your nerves as you prepared to leave, for today you’d officially begin work on the black powder. Closing your bedroom door behind you, a small part of your brain desperately hoped that you wouldn’t run into a particular someone, grimacing at the mental image of him gawking at you wearing the dress _he’d_ chosen for you.

Clearing your thoughts with a shake of your head, you quickly darted down the hall and let loose a relieved sigh when you made it to the lab without any interruptions. Stepping inside, you allow yourself a moment to lean against the cool iron door, bracing yourself for the hard day of work ahead.

Walking over to the counter, you folded up your tight sleeves as best you could and got started. 

First, you had to purify the saltpeter that would be mixed in with the charcoal and sulfur. This is what would take the majority of your time today, for the refined powder had to be thoroughly dried before being combined with the other two elements.

Tossing some wood into the fireplace, you grabbed a nearby candle and dipped the flame inside. After a few minutes, you had a roaring fire and you grinned triumphantly. This had been the biggest hassle to clean and it took about as much time scrubbing off the dust and soot from your hair and body as it did to clean the blasted thing. 

Next, you placed a pot of water over the flames and began to gather up the other ingredients while you waited for it to boil. 

When you heard the telltale signs of bubbling hot water, you carefully placed a handful of pieces of saltpeter inside the pot along with some wood ash you’d saved from when you cleaned out the fire pit. You learned this technique from your old teacher, a trick that _he_ learned from reading a book by a fellow chemist that hailed from the Middle East. The wood ash served to strip the saltpeter of its other elements, mainly calcium and magnesium, to leave behind a purified powder. This would at last be sifted through a strainer to remove any impurities that remained. 

The whole process took a few hours to complete and once the first batch was done, it was a simple feat of repeating the steps over and over again till you had sufficiently enough saltpeter to add to your mixture.

Sweat dripped down your forehead and you stepped away from the fire for a moment, dunking a towel into a bucket of cool water to wipe yourself down. 

You hadn’t a clue how much time had passed, having been completely engrossed in your task. You’d also lost count on how many batches of saltpeter you’d purified at this point. Was this your fifth? Sixth?

Dumping the dried powder into the sift, you vigorously shook it from side-to-side, a plume of fine particles and dust billowing into the air around you. Thankfully, you had fashioned a make-shift mask from a spare piece of cotton fabric, although you had nothing to help spare your eyes from the relentless sting that always came when working with such refined materials.

You dab at the corner of your eyes with a clean washcloth and take off your mask to beat it clean against the sides of your desk. Patting your dusty hands on your dress, you carefully pour the saltpeter into a large jar, one of many that you managed to fill up during the span of the day. 

Taking a step back, a pleased smile spreads across your face at the progress you’d made. This was surely enough to finally begin measuring out the ratios and the thought fills you with excitement. 

You supposed now would be a good time to begin crushing the sulfur. A frown crossed your face at that. You’d always hated working with sulfur, it was greasy, dusty, and of course, it absolutely _reeked._ Any attempts to dull the smell were in vain, regardless if you did it near a window or lit a dozen candles. 

Waving your hand in front of your face, you tossed the bowl of ground sulfur as far away from you as possible, but it was useless, the whole lab surely stunk of rotten eggs at this point.

Coughing into the crook of your arm, you pour yourself a glass of water and take a long and much-needed drink.

The sunlight waned through the windows and you took a gander outside. It was well into the late afternoon, a breeze ruffling your hair as you watched the townsfolk down below scurry about their day. Taking in a deep lungful of the clean, crisp air, you exhaled a long, exhausted sigh and wearily dragged your hands across your face. 

You knew that you were pushing yourself to get this done and you also knew that should you rush the process, the final product would definitely be of much lower quality. Surely the sheriff did not expect you to have barrels full of black powder prepared by the end of the day? He was a little mad, but he wasn’t _unrealistic._

Heading back to the counter, you grabbed one of the empty books he had brought by to be a ledger. Dipping your pen into the ink, you began to draw out a crude table in preparation for properly measuring out the ratios with the help of a handy scale.

A knock on the door causes you to jolt where you stood, your head whipping around to stare straight at it. It was as if you had a sixth sense, mind, and body both already knowing who stood behind the age-old iron before they even stepped in.

You feel your shoulders tense when they walk inside, irritation flashing in your eyes for a brief moment before you mask it with a forced smile. 

Guy returns the gesture, smiling at you in greeting. He heads in your direction, his nose scrunching up slightly when he happened to stride by the large pile of sulfur.

“It appears you’ve been hard at work today, milady,” he said and his gaze flickered over to the glass jars filled with saltpeter. 

“Yes, well, you’ve mentioned that the sheriff is a man who does not like to be kept waiting so I put it upon myself to begin work as quickly as possible,”

He seemed impressed by your tenacious attitude and took a step forward as he inched his head in the direction of your ledger.

“Are these your notes?”

“Yes,” you replied and pointed at the symbols that you etched into the table. “These all stand for the various compounds that’ll be used in the mixture. I was about to begin measuring them out when you decided to visit.”

He pointed towards the bowl of sulfur, his face contorted into a grimace. “Does _that_ happen to be a part of your mixture?”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip in a vain attempt to hold back your laughter and you chuckled softly as you nodded your head. 

“That’s sulfur. It’s what’ll help give it the kick that it needs. It’s incredibly versatile, however, I could never stand working with it. The smell is simply terrible,”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “Reminds me of eggs that have been left for too long out in the sun,”

You laughed again and nodded your head in agreement. “It’s absolutely horrendous. Although, it _is_ rather fascinating that it naturally comes from volcanoes,”

He cocked his head to the side, his dark eyebrows furrowing together, creasing his forehead. “Volcano…?” he repeated slowly as if you’d spoken in a completely different language. 

You blinked, confused, and then the realization dawned on you. “Oh!” you exclaimed. “Right, you… most likely would have never even _heard_ of them. There aren’t very many volcanoes in England…” your voice trailed off, immersed in an internal tangent on how best to describe them to him.

“It’s a mountain, enormous and intimidating in its stature alone, that hides a deadly secret at its peak,”

Guy took a step closer, his obvious intrigue apparent on his face. 

“What sort of secret?” his eyes shined mysteriously under the light cast by the fire and candles and in your zealousness to teach him something new, you did not notice it at all.

“It is filled with molten magma!” you said with a loud gasp, hopping excitedly on the soles of your feet.

 _That_ certainly caught him off guard and he was perplexed as he mulled over your response.

“Mag… ma?”

“Oh, it’s melted rock that travels as water does upon a riverbank. Sulfur is found inside magma once it has cooled enough to be refined from the ore,” you explained, as though it were the simplest concept in the world. 

Guy stares at you, dumbfounded and you fear for a moment that you might have overstepped and said _too_ much. But then again, you were an _alchemist,_ it was your _job_ to know about something like this. You hadn’t gone and inadvertently offended him, had you? 

He suddenly burst into a round of laughter, your anxiety slowly trickling away as you softly laughed with him. 

“You are truly remarkable,” he said earnestly. “I admit, I’m almost a little jealous that you understand so much about the world,” his smile morphed into a half-hearted frown and he sighed. “There were times I wished for nothing more than to leave, to try and have another go at life,” his tone was light, but the look on his face told you otherwise and you were shocked at this sudden vulnerability.

His expression changed, bewilderment enveloping his bright blue eyes before it was quickly stomped out and replaced with a vague veil of disgust. “Forgive me,” he said. “I merely wanted to say…” you noticed him inch ever closer, your gaze flicking down to his arm and back up to his face.

“That even if I cannot _physically_ travel this world, I’ll be able to vicariously experience it all with everything that I’ll learn from _you,”_ his hand tentatively reached out to grab your shoulder but out of reflex, your feet pulled you back, and you shrunk away from his grip.

There was an instant tension in the room. 

Guy looked almost hurt that you’d done such a thing, however, the confusion came out first.

“Why do you recoil from me?” he wondered and he sounded genuinely upset. 

Your heart started hammering in your chest and you took a step back, attempting to put some distance between you two. You feel tongue-tied, unsure of what to say. How could you explain that you’d heard about who he _really_ was? That he had frightened a woman so _terribly_ that she burst into tears when she spoke of him? 

Placing yourself on the opposite side of the wooden counter, you face him with wide eyes. 

He hesitated to lean in closer to speak with you, opting instead to stand with his arms folded across his chest. “Have I done something to upset you?” 

You fidgeted where you stood, your teeth worrying into your bottom lip. “No…” you said carefully. “No, you haven’t. At least not _personally,”_

“And what exactly do you mean by that?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly at the shift in his tone and you huffed, defiantly placing your hands on your hips. “Sir Guy, what is this about? Unless you’ve come to assist me in making the black powder, I suggest that you take your leave.”

He was taken aback, his mouth parting open slightly from shock. “I merely asked you a question,”

“Yes, one that I find to be rather inappropriate,” you retort. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to get back to work.”

You turned to walk away and start measuring out the sulfur when you heard him start walking after you.

“Just a moment—”

“Sir Guy!”

The two of you froze and your heads simultaneously whipped around to find Lady Marian standing at the door. Her green eyes were set right on Guy, her expression stern and unperturbed at the look he sent her way. 

“Lady Marian,” he said with a sneer. “What brings you here?”

“I’d heard that there was a guest staying at the castle and I wished to formally introduce myself,” she said cooly and flashed you a knowing smile. “Was I intruding on something?”

Guy opened his mouth to send a sarcastic reply her way, but you beat him to it and said,

“No, my lady, Sir Guy was just _leaving,”_

He was stunned into silence, his gaze now on you. For a brief moment, a deep and tumultuous lament flashed across his face, but all too soon his jaw clenched and he held his head up high, unsuccessfully masking that you’d undoubtedly torn his ego to shreds. 

He gave you a terse curtsy and hurriedly departed from the room, coldly striding past Marian without so much as a nod of the head.

Instantly you let out a long sigh of relief. Your shoulders sagged and you leaned against the counter for support, eyes fluttering shut as a heavy weight lifts from your chest.

The door slams shut and Marian’s boots tap softly against the stone floor. You feel a hand gently yet comfortingly squeeze your arm and your eyes open to find Marian standing before you, a kind smile on her face.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

You nod your head and smile gratefully at her. “Yes, I’m alright, thank you,”

“What happened?”

You gestured for her to follow you and she did, the both of you taking a seat on some stools that you’d placed near one of the windows.

“It started off perfectly fine,” you admit and take a deep breath, the cool evening air settling your nerves. “He asked me about some of the materials I’d be using and I had no problem explaining that. However...” you sighed, your head hung low in mild embarrassment. “Our conversation must have had a deeper effect on me than I thought, for when he tried to reach out to me, I turned away from his touch.”

“Oh…” Marian said quietly.

She was deep in thought for a moment and you suddenly recalled that the two of you had been interrupted the day before, there was still _more_ that she had to tell you.

“I can see that you already know that which I’m about to speak of,” she said softly and you slowly nodded your head. Her lips were pressed together thinly and the features of her face were taught, laced in a mixture of anxiety and a bit of frustration. “There is no point in keeping it from you any longer. You deserve to know why your apprehension is well warranted... why I've come to _despise_ Sir Guy of Gisborne,” 

A chill runs down your spine however, you remain quiet, and silently wait for her to begin.

“Guy and I… at one point…” she heaved a heavy sigh and said, with her head bowed remorsefully, “Were to be _married,”_

_“WHAT?!”_

You squawked and nearly keeled out of your seat from total shock. “You were to be _what?”_

“It was not my choice,” she snapped. “I… I had found myself in a rather precarious situation and the only way to get out of it was to marry him,”

You looked upon her in complete bewilderment. What could have _possibly_ happened wherein she had to marry Gisborne to avoid certain doom?

“Care to elaborate?”

She faltered, unsure, but then something clicked behind her eyes, a resound resignation that she silently agreed to with a subtle nod of the head. 

“Guy discovered that I had been colluding with Robin Hood,”

“Robin Hood?” you repeated, the name sounding so familiar yet so mysterious at the same time. “Robin Hood? Robin… Robin… wait,” you said, mystified by your own conclusion. “You mean Robin of _Locksley?”_

“Yes,” she nodded. “He left around the same time you did, to go and fight in the Holy War,”

“No,” you gasped, horrified. You had heard stories of the terrible things that took place on the battlefield, hearing rumors on the state of the war-torn mind. Men would come home riddled with invisible scars, some so deep that it changed the very nature of their _soul._ Had Robin experienced something similar and fled to the woods to lead a life of solitude?

“He came back after four years of service and experienced first-hand how the state of this country had deteriorated. At first, he attempted to use his influence to push the sheriff into bending to his _own_ moral compass but, I’m sure you can imagine how well that went,” she chuckled softly and you did as well. 

You’d only been here a few days but you could immediately tell that Vasey was the sort of man that _despised_ being undermined. You briefly wondered how long Robin lasted as a noble till he took to the woods to escape living under Vasey’s rule.

“It’s because of those morals that he finds himself an outlaw,”

“An outlaw?” you’re stunned. You hadn’t heard anything about him being an outlaw! 

Marian raised an eyebrow up at you. “Did you not know? He saved three people from Locksley who were due to hang and was labeled as a disturber of the peace ever since. Have you never heard the sheriff ranting about a man called Hood?”

“No, I—” your voice trailed off and you frowned. “I had no idea. All that I heard is he lives in Sherwood forest now,”

“You haven’t a clue about what he does?”

“No!”

She laughed and gazed at you in disbelief. “Well, let’s just say that a certain sheriff would be an _awful_ lot richer if Robin Hood was not around,”

 _“No,”_ you gaped and then burst into an obnoxious round of laughter. _“Nooo!_ There’s no way that Robin…” one look at Marian’s face made you snicker behind your hand as you say, “He _steals_ from the _sheriff?”_

“Yes,” she replied, a big grin on her face. “He returns it back to the people, where it rightfully belongs,” all too sudden this smile fades away and she sighs.

“These… these last five years have been incredibly difficult,” she muttered and anxiously kneaded her hands together. “The taxes that go towards the King are outright _robbery_ and the way the people are treated if they can’t pay them is _horrendous,”_ her voice is bitter, laced in disdain. “I… I always tried my best to help in any way that I can, but, that’s what ended up putting me here,” her gaze flicks to the side, a swift sadness overwhelming her. 

“I assisted Robin in preventing a plot to kill my father, along with a few others that openly support King Richard,” she explained and you gasped.

“He tried to have those that serve on his council _murdered?”_

Marian nodded her head and she lowered her voice as her eyes cautiously darted around the room. “I’ve had my suspicions for a while that the sheriff has been working in tandem with various other nobles in a plot to dethrone the king,”

“That’s...” you stuttered. “That’s ridiculous. He’d be committing treason!”

 _“Not_ if they manage to get Prince John on the throne,”

“Are you saying that Prince John is participating in a coup?”

She frowned and leaned back in her seat, arms folded across her chest. “I cannot answer that definitively, however, I strongly suspect that it _is_ true,”

You were dumbfounded and albeit, a little terrified. If the sheriff was secretly staging a coup to usurp King Richard, what else was he capable of? He was a lot more dangerous than you initially thought, giving you all the more reason to be _exceptionally_ careful around him. 

“But…” she said forlornly. “That is not the _true_ reason for why I am here. You recall that I mentioned I was to marry Guy, yes?”

“Of course,”

“I agreed to it completely under duress, the reality of being hanged for assisting an outlaw constantly waved over my head. When the day finally arrived, well…” she chewed on the inside of her cheek and then pouted, shyly looking away from you as she swayed in her seat. “I...may or may not have refused him at the altar… and _punched_ him… and took off on horseback… with _Robin,”_

You stood there, stupefied, an array of mental images reeling around inside your head. Marian _punched_ Guy? Marian _eloped_ with Robin? Along with the news that the sheriff was supposedly staging a _coup-d'état,_ this was almost too much for you to handle.

“You _punched_ him?” you stated firmly. “Punched?”

She nodded her head. “Yes, _punched.”_

“And then you eloped with Robin?”

“That is correct,”

She was so serious, in both tone and demeanor, that it only took a few seconds for you to crack and burst into another round of loud laughter. Marian quickly follows suit, and soon, the two of you are practically howling, clutching your sides as her words _truly_ sunk in.

“You really punched him!” you almost shrieked, but immediately lowered your voice as you added, “Guy! In front of _all_ the wedding guests?”

“And the priest!” she giggled. “One mustn’t forget him!”

“How could I!” you said shrilly and cackled behind your hands. “Oh, that must have been _exhilarating,”_

“You have _no_ idea,”

“I’m almost a little jealous,” you admitted with a sly smile. “I wished I would’ve gotten the chance to do that to one of the men my father pushed me to court,”

“Oh, I can only wish you success in any future endeavors,” she mused and the two of you chuckled.

“But…” you said, your laughter dying down as you eyed her with pity. “It’s because of that you’re here…” 

You hadn’t intended to kill the mood, however, the reality of her situation was much too serious to be overshadowed by what she had done, even _if_ it had been well-deserved.

“Yes…” she replied solemnly. “Guy had come to my house a few weeks later, bringing with him a fury I had never seen before. His wrath was swift and before I could even stop him, he had set fire to my home,”

_“What?!”_

Her lip trembled slightly and she nodded her head swiftly, biting down on the inside of her cheek to prevent any tears from falling. “He burned my house down and ordered that we both be placed under house arrest, my father and I,”

“Your father is here?” you exclaimed. “In the castle?”

“Yes,” she gasped and clicked her tongue when a few tears managed to slip past her defenses, stubbornly wiping them away. “This has been the hardest on him. He has been in such poor health the entire time we’ve been here and they hardly do a thing to help him,” she spat. 

“What’s wrong with him?” you wondered and leaned forward in your seat, hands clasped in your lap.

“I… I’m not sure,” she admitted. “However, I _can_ tell you that he is very weak, sometimes feverish. He needs medicine and water and a decent meal for once, but I know that shall never happen,”

You shot up from the stool and Marian jolted in surprise, staring up at you with wide eyes. 

“Not on my watch,” you said firmly and gave her a determined stare. Briskly walking over to one of the counters, you shuffle through the jars you’d carefully organized and gathered up a variety of medicinal herbs. Cutting up a piece of cotton fabric, you sew it together to form a small bag, dumping the contents inside and sealing it with a bit of extra thread.

“Here,” you said and handed it to Marian. “Grab a mug or two from over there,” you instructed. “I’ll boil some water that we can take over to him,”

“What is this?” she asked and closely inspected the bag. “Is it… is it medicine?”

“Yes,” you replied and carefully picked up a rock you had placed in the fire, dropping it inside the pot of water to get it boiling much quicker.

“It’s a mixture of herbs that will help with the symptoms that you described,”

“You’re trained in medicine?” she gets up and heads in the direction of the spare mugs, grabbing two and bringing them over to you.

As the water started to simmer and bubble, you gently let it drain into the two mugs, smiling at her. “It is just as important for me to understand the functions of the human body as it is to understand the functions of the universe. Although I will admit, I am much more knowledgeable in alchemy than medicine,” you added sheepishly.

She had a tight grip on the mugs, her eyes shimmering like gemstones in the light of the fire. “Thank you…” she said softly, rendered speechless by your kindness.

You gave her another smile and then urged her to lead the way to her father’s bedroom. She briskly yet cautiously walked through the halls, not wanting to spill a single drop of the precious hot water.

Eventually, she stopped in front of a wooden door and handed you one of the mugs to knock and signal her arrival. 

“Come in,” a weary voice replied.

The first thing that you notice upon entering the room is the pallor of his skin. It is pale, sunken in, his expression hollow. However, when his eyes land on Marian, they light up and he smiles.

“Marian…” he whispered, relief washing over him. “What a surprise, I wasn’t expecting you today,”

She placed a gentle kiss on her father’s forehead and tenderly brushed back some of his thinning gray hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better now that you’re here,” he said and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. 

Marian smiled warmly down at him, but she could tell that he was trying to remain strong in front of her. He knew how much she worried about him and for that he never wished to be any more of a burden on her; she already had enough to deal with.

“Father, I brought someone with me,” she said and beckoned you forward. 

You shyly cleared your throat and gave him a wave. “Hello,” you said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,”

He eyed you skeptically yet stuck out his hand in greeting nonetheless. “I am Sir Edward of Knighton. And you are?”

You introduced yourself and he acknowledged your name with an indignant _hmph._

“She is a friend of mine, one that comes bearing some knowledge of medicine,” Marian said firmly and reached into her dress pocket to procure the small satchel of herbs. “She said that this should help alleviate some of your symptoms,”

He turned to look at you, surprise etched on his features. “Really?”

“It’s a simple combination of herbs that will help with the chills, aches, and pains that Marian informed me about,” you explained. “All you need to do is steep this bag into a cup of hot water and drink it while it’s still hot,” you handed Marian one of the mugs and she dropped the bag inside. 

After a few moments of letting it steep, she handed it to her father and he took a cautious sniff before downing the contents in one go.

He hummed pleasantly, his eyes shut in delight as he relaxed in his bed. “Why this has warmed me down to the very bones,” Edward said with a delightful glimmer in his eyes. 

You grinned. “I’m so glad. I was furious when I found out how not only you’d been treated by the sheriff, but your daughter as well. The fact that he thinks he can get away with such callous acts…”

“It’s because he can,” Edward said sharply. “There is no code of honor anymore, not when men like Vasey are in charge,” he grumbled to himself and placed the empty mug on his nightstand. “You took a risk helping me today, young lady, and for that, I am forever grateful.”

“Nonsense, my lord. I am a partially trained physician, this is all just a part of my job,” you gave him and Marian a mischievous grin and they both chuckled.

“It does set my mind at ease knowing that there is now someone like you watching over my daughter,” he said fondly. “These past few months have been… rather difficult,”

“Marian has become an invaluable friend to me,” you said honestly. “And as long as I’m around, you will not have to worry any further about receiving proper medical care,”

Marian’s head whipped around to face you, her mouth parted open in astonishment. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course!” you exclaimed and stumbled back a bit as Marian tackled you into a hug. Your quiet laughter rang out in the room as you wrapped your arms around her shoulders to pull her close and return the embrace. 

When she pulled away, she had tears pricking at the corner of her eyes and sniffled a bit, dabbing at her nose with her sleeve. “You are too kind,”

“It’s the least I can do,” you said. “The bag that I gave you lasts for a good three to four cups, but after that, the herbs begin to lose their potency. When you run out, simply stop by my lab and I will make some more,”

“Bless you, my dear,” Edward said and gently clasped your hand between his. “I never thought I’d see the day… meeting such a selfless soul in this castle.”

Giving his hands a squeeze, you exchanged a few more pleasantries before you, unfortunately, announced that you must return to your work. Bidding Marian and her father farewell, you retraced your steps back to the lab and walked inside, a content smile on your face.

This instantaneously vanishes when you see someone standing in front of the fire. That someone being...

Guy.

Your feet are rooted to the spot, your heart leaping into your throat as dread settles into the pit of your stomach. There was no positive outcome you could foresee to explain him being here. Had he come to toss you in the dungeons for your insolence? Take you to the sheriff to be dealt out a proper punishment? 

With his back turned, you couldn’t discern a thing from him and cautiously took a step forward. 

The sound of your footsteps seemed to finally alert him that he was no longer alone, turning on his heel to gaze over at you with wide eyes.

You halted in your tracks and looked back at him, stare unwavering and patiently waiting for him to make the first move. 

Surprisingly, his gaze falters and he appears almost timid, glancing down at the floor and rubbing the back of his neck.

It certainly caught you off guard.

“I’m sorry if I startled you just now,” he said gently. “I only wished to see you again, so that I could apologize,”

Your eyebrows rose up in surprise. You definitely weren’t expecting _that_ either. From what you could tell, his intentions seemed genuine and for a moment, your walls came down and you took a few steps closer to Guy. Folding your arms against your chest, you stare up at him incredulously, dubious as to whether or not he’d apologize for the _right_ thing.

“My behavior earlier, it was completely inappropriate. I… I should not have acted the way that I did and I apologize if I overstepped my boundaries,” he cleared his throat and then placed his hands behind his back. “I can only hope that this did not completely soil our friendship,”

“Friendship?”

“Yes,” he said softly. “Are… are we not friends?”

You frowned and unconsciously rubbed your arm. “I… I do not know…”

Disappointment flashed in his eyes and he sighed. “I see… it appears as though you’ve already made up your mind,”

You could not help but feel a little sorry for Guy, it was apparent that this meant a lot to him. Perhaps he’d read a bit more into your friendliness than you would’ve liked? Well, you can’t exactly place _all_ of the blame on Guy. You _had_ been rather fond of him the first night you met. However, things were different now, and it felt almost impossible for things to go back to the way they were knowing what you knew now. 

“Nevertheless,” his voice pierced through your thoughts. “I personally believe that _actions_ speak louder than words, so, if I could ask you to follow me,” 

He walked up to you and you stepped aside, allowing him to pass as he tugged on the iron handle and held the door open. 

You observe him with an air of suspicion and cautiously headed out of the lab. He kept his distance, leading you down a few corridors until you ended up in the castle courtyard.

When you reached the stairs he picked up his pace and sped down them, ushering his silent thanks to a man that stood nearby, his hands occupied with the reins of a gorgeous horse.

It was an enormous stallion with a beautiful dark brown coat that shimmered black in the evening sun. His mane was long and coarse, dark as night, and he had a white stripe down his forehead, topped by a cute pink nose. 

You looked to the horse than at Guy, whipping your head back and forth for a few seconds until you finally understood.

Oh. This horse was for _you._

“Sir Guy, I…” you stuttered over your words. “This… I cannot accept this,”

“Why not?”

“I… it’s… it’s too much. I would not feel right accepting something so lavish,”

“You are an important key-player here in the castle,” he said and smiled down at you. “We’d like only to remind you that we value your work, that’s all,”

“So this isn’t some sort of consolation prize?” you asked sternly. 

“Well,” he said, his cheeks flushed slightly. “It would be a lie for me to say that wasn’t _entirely_ the case,”

You sighed and took a step forward, allowing the horse to sniff your curled fist, his ears twitching as he assessed you.

He let out a snort, blowing some hair out of your face and you giggled, reaching up to stroke his lovely mane. 

“Do you like him?”

You glanced over at Guy and offered a smile in his direction, your eyes glazing over fondly as your horse started to gently nibble on the tips of your fingers. “I do. However, I hope you understand that I am not so easily won, despite such an extravagant gift,”

“Oh, I know,” he replied. “All that I hope for, my lady,” he gracefully places the reins in your hands, his touch lingering for just a moment before he folds his arms behind his back. “Is for us to be friends. But… I suppose I could stick with simply being colleagues for now,”

He was handling this surprisingly well and you had to wonder… did he _really_ learn something from your argument? 

You were still wary of Guy, Marian’s warnings constantly lingering in the back of your mind, but he was more than willing to respect your wishes. Perhaps this all could have been avoided if you had told him outright that you desired some space? Ah, there was no point in lingering on the ‘what if’s’ now. 

You gift him a genuine smile and nod your head in appreciation. “Thank you, Sir Guy, hearing you say that means more to me than you know,”

His face lights up and he bows before you. “Of course, my lady. Feel free to take him out for a ride, I’m sure he’d enjoy it,”

“At this hour?” you gasped. “Oh no, surely the sheriff would not approve of me going out so late—”

“It’s fine,” he assured you. “If the sheriff disapproves, he can take it up with me,”

“Are you sure?”

He chuckled. “Yes. Now, go before I change my mind,”

You beam up at him and hoist yourself up onto the back of your horse. He’s strong and gives his head a shake when he feels you pull on the reins, but he quickly relinquished control, staring straight ahead as he awaited your orders.

A strange sensation bubbles up into your chest and before you can think to stop yourself, you look over your shoulder and call out, “Thank you, _Guy,_ I shall be back soon,” 

His eyes glimmer with a mixture of emotions and one, in particular, makes your heart skip a beat until you tell yourself you’re thinking too much into it. You flash him one last smile before squeezing your horse around his barrel and urging him into a gallop, running through the streets of Nottingham and out into the colorful fields of Sherwood. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i knoww it looks like i'm just constantly bullying guy in this fic but he deserves it!! it isn't all bad though, things are starting to develop a bit more now. we're out here getting a free horse! and did you see that lack of honoraries?? ohoho now that's an exciting development ;) 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this chapter!! i personally really enjoyed writing the dialogue between you and marian & doing all the research on the creation of black powder. the technique mentioned in this chapter is what they actually used to do!! well, a very simplified version, but it was what they did nonetheless lol
> 
> >>i also did not realize till just now how funny it is that i inadvertently mentioned a volcano in a story about guy... i guess my most recent rewatch of the lord of the rings came out there HAHA


	4. Iron

As the days came and went, your arsenal of black powder gradually grew with the passage of time. You’d been hard at work for nearly a week, but it was all worth it and you successfully crafted two-barrel fulls of the explosive material.

You collected a handful and let it smoothly run through your fingers, the small pellets effortlessly melding back into the pile. 

The sheriff and Sir Guy stood off to the side, a few guards stationed on either flank as they all watched you in avid curiosity. 

“It isn’t as _refined_ as I would have liked, however,” you said and turned to face them, your eyes flashing under the light of the candles. “Considering the _pressure_ I was under, I suppose it’ll have to do,”

The sheriff gave you a forced grin and walked over towards you, forcefully patting you on the shoulder.

“Yes, well, you’d better hope that the same level of dissatisfaction does not fall over me,” he said and the amount of maliciousness hidden in the undertones of his voice made your blood run cold.

You internally scolded yourself as you lowered your gaze. You mustn’t forget your place, let alone your usefulness. You were talented, yes, but it would be incredibly naive of you to think that he found you irreplaceable. If he so wished, Vasey could have you gone within the _hour._

Stepping off the side, you hurriedly grabbed the ledger that you’d been keeping your notes in and handed it to the sheriff.

“These are my notes, thus far, my lord,” you said softly and at this, Vasey’s expression lit up. 

“Ah, so you _did_ keep a ledger. Good girl,” he mused and took it from you, propping it open and flipping through several pages.

You watched him carefully as he skimmed through the content, stopping at one particular page that detailed an extensive list.

“I take it these are the instructions for creating the black powder?” he surmised and you nodded your head.

“Yes,” you took a step forward and pointed at a few key points. “This is just the first draft, so I apologize if any of the terminologies are confusing, I was having a difficult time transcribing my methodology into a format that would be easier to follow.”

He glanced over at you and said, “It’s good. It _does_ need some work, but considering how much you got done… it’s good,” a snide grin formed on his face. “Impressive, even,”

Did… did the _sheriff_ just praise you for a job well done? If you weren’t so on edge, you might have felt a little flattered.

“Thank you… my lord,” you said awkwardly and he practically slammed the ledger back into your arms as he encircled the two barrels.

“Did you make sure to document the ratios?” 

“Certainly, my lord. Thanks to the information that Sir Guy provided to me about Lambert’s batch, I did my best to replicate some of its properties, such as the blowback and the amount of power released upon ignition,” 

The sheriff’s attention slid over to Guy and he sneered. “So, you _were_ able to be useful after all?”

You felt your eyes narrow slightly at his tone, Guy’s own gaze shifting off to the side, his head bowed submissively. 

“It seems so, my lord,” 

You felt a sudden twinge of remorse towards Guy, his obvious discomfort apparent on his face. Was this something that he was used to, such belittlement from the sheriff?

 _“Guy_ was actually very helpful, my lord,” you said tersely and held back your nerves when the sheriff’s beady stare whipped back over to you. 

His expression was unreadable and you found yourself growing incredibly nervous the longer he held his gaze. After a moment, he cocked his head to the side and did the very same to Guy. He silently dawned on a conclusion, one that he responded to with a sly smile and he chuckled quietly to himself. 

“Oh, I’m sure he was,” he muttered.

The meaning of his words was lost on you, however, it was easy to pick up on how uncomfortable Guy had become. 

Determined to bring back the focus to your work, you went back to your notes and showed him the table you’d made. “I am positive that this batch will be quite strong, my lord. Nevertheless, if there is anything that you wish to improve, I will gladly accommodate any changes that you request.”

Vasey was silent as he listened to you, contemplating your words for a split second before a grin spread across his lips. “Well, what are we waiting for?” he said excitedly and slammed his palms against the rims of the barrel. “Shall we take her for a test run?”

❈

Arriving at the desolate cliffside, you slide off your saddle and lead your horse to a nearby grove of trees. You stroked his mane and gave him a scratch on the nose as you said, “Now stay here and behave, mister,”

He blew a stream of air in your face and then bent over to start nibbling on the grass. You only hoped that he wouldn’t run off from fright after hearing the explosion.

Following the wagon that carried one of your barrels, you instructed them to bring it to a large boulder that stood nearby. It must have fallen from the peak some centuries ago, a massive hunk of white stone that sparkled in the bright afternoon sun; it was the perfect size for a trial run.

Collecting some of the black powder into a small satchel, you tie the ends with a piece of rope and place it deep into a crevice, one that had been conveniently formed by the eroding water and winds. One of the guards hands you a jar, and after filling it up with some black powder, you meticulously poured out a long trail, tapering off the fuse at a safe enough distance that ensured no harm befell on your company during the aftermath.

You noticed a small fire crackling nearby as you rejoined the others and a castle guard placed the butt of a torch inside the flames. As it came alight, he handed it to you and you cautiously made your way to the fuse.

“Everything ready?” the sheriff asked, nervously fidgeting beside a bush. 

“Yes, my lord. We should be far enough to observe the explosion. However, should there be any serious debris, I would advise that you all take cover behind one of the trees,”

Guy’s position beside the sheriff faltered slightly and he watched you apprehensively as you knelt down and set the fuse alight.

After a few seconds, the powder erupted and burst into a bright white flame. It was quick, easily creeping up the trail as it devoured any fuel in its path, the very grass it touched turning to singed ash.

The air was thick with anticipation and you took a deep breath to calm your racing heart. Time seemed to slow down around you as the flame grew closer and closer to the boulder, and instinctively, you clasped your hands over your ears, noticing the guards and Guy immediately do the same as the fuse and detonator finally met.

A thunderous sound echoes into the atmosphere, the resounding shockwave nearly knocking the sheriff off his feet. Large pieces of rock go flying in every direction and shrapnel rains from the skies, flocks of birds taking off from the trees, startled by the sound. A large puff of smoke billows up from the ignition site and drifts over towards you and you shield your eyes from the oncoming onslaught of dirt and dust. 

After a few seconds, there's a stillness to the world, and a gentle breeze dances around you, helping clear the stifling air. There's a slight sting to your eyes but you blink back the minor pain, turning around to at last see the extent of the damage.

The boulder was completely destroyed, soot covering the ground that housed the very heart of the explosion. Had it not been for a few large chunks that lay nearby, split clean down the middle, one would have no clue it once stood there.

The sheriff strode past you and gleefully clapped his hands together in triumph. “That was magnificent!” he exclaimed and excitedly pointed at what rubble remained. “My dear, you _sorely_ underestimate yourself. Surely I thought we were in for a small spark, not a roaring _thunder,”_

“I’m glad that it met your expectations, my lord,”

He grinned and pawed at all the black powder that remained inside the barrel. “Oh, you have _more_ than met them. The fact that this isn’t even your _best_ work _,”_ he sucked in some air between his teeth and dramatically draped his arm across your shoulders. “It fills me with such _joy._ You are going to have a _very_ promising future here, my dear alchemist.” 

You gave him a nervous smile, drawing into yourself as the sheriff pressed himself closer. Your eyes absentmindedly flicker over towards Guy and you feel butterflies begin to dance in your stomach.

He stood with his mouth parted open in complete shock, so in awe at what he had just witnessed. He's _mesmerized_ and a small part of you is elated, no one ever having looked so _entranced_ by your work before. He senses the weight of your stare and turns to face you, a big grin on his face. 

“That was incredible,” he said. “It would not be a stretch to say that you’ve even outdone Lambert,”

“No, it wouldn’t,” the sheriff agreed and parted from you after delivering one last pat on the back. “I’d say you’ve more than proven your loyalty and dedication to the cause,” he grinned. “I expect you to begin work on an improved formula at once,” he snapped his fingers, and one of the guards rushed up to the hill to retrieve your horses. 

With the help of a castle guard, the sheriff was hoisted up onto his saddle, his stare intimidating as he gazed down at you from atop his white steed. “I expect nothing but the best from you, understand? I’m sure by now you know that if there’s one thing I hate to waste: it’s my time.”

You nodded your head silently in understanding and the smile he gave you in return caused a chill to race down your spine.

“Good,” he replied and with that, he urged his horse into a trot as he leisurely started up the hill to head back to Nottingham. 

“Why do you seem so discouraged?” Guy wondered, appearing beside you. “This was a raging success,”

“Oh,” you muttered and absentmindedly stroked the side of your horse. “It’s nothing, truly. It’s only that... I still find myself rather unnerved in his presence, regardless if he is singing nothing but praise.”

Guy hummed softly in understanding. “If it’s any sort of consolation, I often find _myself_ still intimidated by him, even after all these many years,”

He stated this as though it were a joke, but something else flashed in his bright blue eyes that only furthered your previous assumptions that it was _normal_ for him to be constantly criticized by the sheriff. 

Your own expression morphed into one of sympathy and he looked taken-aback, obviously unprepared for such a reaction.

“Focus... on the positives,” he said and awkwardly cleared his throat behind his gloved hand. “I know you’re more than capable of meeting his demands,”

“I appreciate your boundless confidence in my abilities, Guy. It means a lot,” you replied and smiled. 

A minute trace of pink rises to his pale cheeks and he nods his head shyly in response. 

Silently, the two of you mount your horses and follow after the sheriff and his cavalry of guards back to the foreboding halls of Nottinghamshire. 

Thus, your sole priority in the upcoming weeks was spent entirely on the refinement of your black powder. 

Using the techniques you’d learned from your teacher, you were able to add your own little flare to the mixture that drew upon additives that he himself picked up on during his years of mastering the arts. 

You’d often take to the same cliffside, testing out small intermittent batches here and there to get a feel for your current progress. Things had been coming along smoothly and you were currently headed to the lab to get started on another day of hard work. 

Upon walking inside, you were met with quite a surprise. 

Guy stood nearby one of the counters, an intricate wooden box in his hands. 

“Well, this is unexpected,” you mused and strode up to him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Guy?”

He smiled and chuckled nervously, hoping that you did not notice the ferocious flush that crept up his neck. 

“Unfortunately, I’m here strictly on business,” he replied and gently handed you the wooden box.

You raised an eyebrow quizzically at the sight, propping it open to take a peek inside, and a delighted gasp falls from your lips. Inside lie two pieces of a glittering ore and you plucked one between your fingers, twirling it above your eye. 

“The sheriff requested your expertise in identifying these,” he explained. “He is in the process of working on a new sort of armor, an _indestructible_ armor,”

You found that little detail a bit hard to believe and glanced over at him skeptically. “Even the most refined steel shall rust and crack,” you stated. “Such is the way of all things crafted of the earth,”

“We’ve brought along a secret weapon,” he said with a small smirk. “We’ve managed to snag a renowned forge master from the Kingdom of France. He goes by Tomaso and he claims to be the only man west of Jerusalem who can make these rocks work their magic,”

You chuckled softly and shook your head in derision. “I’ll have to see it to believe it,”

”I intend you to,” he replied and made his way to the door. “When you have your answer, return them to my home, to Locksley manor. Tomaso has been under my keep since arriving here in England and I’m sure he’d gladly show you the results of his dedicated work,”

“Very well. I shall see you soon then, Guy,” 

”Confident, are we?”

”Oh you don’t know the _half_ of it,” you replied cockily. 

His signature smirk lit up his face as he bid you farewell and you silently scolded yourself at how jittery you became at the sight.

_Focus... you mustn’t fall for his unbearably handsome charm...!_

Clearing your conflicting thoughts with an arduous sigh, you brought your focus back to the task ahead of you. Rummaging through one of your dress pockets, you took out a small piece of glass and brought it up to your eye to more closely inspect the finer details. 

The ore was dark in color, almost black, but it had traces of blue and flecks of white. Placing it inside a pestle, you took a firm grip of your mortar and broke it into several pieces with a well-placed strike. 

_So it’s brittle,_ you thought, and ripped a small piece of parchment to do a streak test. Dragging a piece of the mineral across the surface, it left behind a dark black line and you nodded silently in understanding.

“Hmm… let me see,” you muttered and walked over to the nearby window. Bringing it up to the light, a smile spreads across your face when you notice how the color shifts from black to brown as the sun’s rays pass through it. 

“I thought so,” you replied with a triumphant nod of your head. “You must be a form of iron,” you thought and rubbed the mineral onto the blade of a nearby knife. After a few minutes, the piece became magnetized and gently stuck to the side of the blade. 

“Ah, so _that’s_ why you’re so expensive,” you mused while you twirled the tiny piece between your fingers. “You’re pretty rich in ore, aren’t you? It’s no wonder you’re being melted down to make steel.”

Promising to apologize to Tomaso for smashing one of his pieces, you dumped the minerals back into the box to return it to said arms maker who was surely still pounding away at Locksley manor. 

Walking out of your laboratory, you offer the guards stationed nearby a friendly wave and begin to head in the direction of the exit. You’re not paying much mind to any other business walking through the halls until you hear someone call out your name.

Coming to an abrupt halt, you turn on your heel and realize that you stood before the sheriff’s quarters, and incidentally, that is who was beckoning for your attention.

You subconsciously drew into yourself as Vasey bounded out of his room with a broad, toothy smile, his jeweled incisor glittering in the low-light of the early evening sun. 

“Ah, if it isn’t my little alchemist,” he grinned. “I see that Guy has dropped off the box of magical rocks,” he chuckled. “So, tell me, what wondrous insights can you reveal to me about its contents?”

“Well, my lord, surely you must know that this is iron.”

“Really?” he neared closer to pop the box open and take out one of the rocks. “You know I mine iron, don’t you?” he asked as he brought it up to look at himself.

“I was unaware,” you replied. 

“So, you’ll forgive me if I’m less than impressed at this mind-blowing discovery of yours,” he replied snarkily and plopped the mineral back inside its container. 

Your eyes narrowed a bit but you kept any snide remarks at bay, you didn’t exactly want to be tossed into the dungeons for insolence on some _iron ore._

“My lord,” you said carefully. “I have never been given a sample of your iron, so I cannot accurately compare the two samples. However, I will say that this particular batch is incredibly rich in iron specifically. It does not surprise me that this is what Tomaso is using to make his armor,” you explained. “It would be easy to melt this down and make steel, so long as one is knowledgeable in the craft.”

“Fascinating,” Vasey replied, his finger tapping his lips in thought as he listened intently to you. “These would yield higher grade steel, then?"

“Indeed. It is the quality of the ore that will affect the quality of the steel, and this is as high as they come,”

“So, you’re saying that these funny little rocks are more valuable than what we find here, in England?”

“If you had to have these imported, then yes,” you replied. “It would be easy for me to identify this material in the future but I have little knowledge on how to actually turn this into anything resembling armor.”

“Oh, that’s perfectly alright,” he said cheerily. “So long as we always have a capable arms maker and you do the magic that you do in identifying these lovely little rocks, then we shall always be in business.”

You managed to give him a crooked smile and nodded your head. “Right… I’m glad I could be of assistance. If you don’t mind, my lord, I was going to head to Locksley and return these back to Tomaso.”

“Wonderful. Just let the guards outside the gate know where you’re headed off to! I expect your return by nightfall,” he went to leave but stopped in his tracks as he recalled something, waggling his finger to-and-fro. “Oh, and a word to the wise; Gisborne’s had a bad day so I’d advise you keep the cordialities to a minimum.”

Your eyebrows furrowed together and you reply, “Sir Guy? In bad spirits? What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry about my dear,” he grinned. “It’ll all be sorted out in the morning.” 

You were unsatisfied by his response, however, you knew better than to press any further so you gave him a courtesy and continued down the winding halls of the castle. His warning had thrown you for a bit of a loop since you hardly sensed any irritability in Guy’s demeanor when he had visited you only an hour prior. Perhaps said animosity had only been directed towards the sheriff? That thought alone brought a coy smile to your face.

Reaching the exit, you walked into the stables and grabbed your horse. Hauling yourself up onto his back, you informed the guards that you were off to Locksley and departed without another word.

The journey to Locksley was quick and uneventful and you soon arrived in the quaint village. The sky had changed from a low waning blue to the more colorful pinks and yellows as the sun began to set low on the horizon. Those tilling the fields were slowly beginning to head home after a hard day’s work, the aromatic smell of cooking meats and baking bread wafting through the open windows of the nearby homes as mothers and their children worked together in preparing dinner. 

You offered a few villagers a wave and even though they returned the gesture, you had a feeling that they were only being polite. You’d heard from Marian how cruelly the peasants around Nottinghamshire were being treated ever since Vasey came into office, and although she did not go into much detail on the very land that Guy oversees, you had a feeling they were practically one in the same.

The rhythmic pounding of steel being hammered into shape rose to your ears as you neared the manor. Sliding off the back of your horse, you adjusted the strap of your bag that contained the box of iron and cautiously walked inside the make-shift workshop.

Heat prickled at your skin and the steam caused sweat to start pooling on your lower back and you waved some of it out of your face as you ventured further inside.

“Tomaso?” you called out and you heard the clanging stop.

From the fog emerged the master craftsman, his dark skin rich in warm undertones and beaded with sweat. There was a rag tied around his head and an apron draped across his form, his hands and arms scuffed and worn with callouses from years working under the heat of the forge.

His eyes widened when he noticed you standing before him and he gave you a bow.

“What a pleasant surprise,” he smiled. “I do not believe we have had the pleasure of meeting, my lady, and yet, you know my name.”

“Your reputation precedes you, sir,” you gave him a playful smile as you introduced yourself. 

“Ah, so _you_ are the sheriff’s alchemist?” he mused and thoughtfully stroked his chin. “I must admit, the idea of talking to someone who understands the beauty of my work is most exciting.”

“Well, I cannot _wait_ to get a better look at this armor you’ve been producing,” you said and reached into the bag to procure the box and hand it to him. “But first, I thought you might want these back,”

“I was wondering where this batch wandered off to,” he chuckled and placed it on a small work-table. “I assume the sheriff wished for you to do an analysis on my rocks?”

“Yes.”

“So, tell me, did you find any secrets hidden amongst their sparkling layers?”

“I did, actually,” you replied and followed his lead further into the hut. 

“Well, don’t keep it a secret, my dear.”

“You don’t know what they are?” you wondered.

“Of course I do,” he replied with a cheeky grin. “I simply wish to hear your own deductions.”

“I see,” you smirked. “Well, I believe they’re a specialized form of iron ore, one that has a very high iron composition. I would have melted everything down myself to try and see specifically _what_ it’s made of, but I thought that might be overstepping it a bit.”

He let out a hearty laugh and nodded his head in agreement. “Very good. It is indeed iron, a type that can be easily broken down and welded into steel by my furnace. It’s some of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. I doubt my product would be nearly as durable without it.”

“Well, without your skills, it would remain as nothing more than a simple hunk of iron,” you commended. “It takes more than quality materials to make quality crafts. One must take into account the expertise of the craftsman as well.”

“You flatter me,” he replied and placed his hand over his heart as he gave you an earnest smile. “I’m sure with the proper teaching, any experienced man would be able to craft my armor.”

“Nonsense,” you quipped and grabbed a nearby piece and let your fingers trail across the smooth, polished steel. “Of this caliber? I sincerely doubt it.”

“Ah, I should usher you out before I lose myself in your compliments, my lady,” he joked and you giggled. “However, I thank you. It is nice to hear praise from someone who understands the intricacies of my craft.”

“Of course. I sincerely hope that both the sheriff and Sir Guy are equally as generous in their own accolades,” you replied. “They’d be fools otherwise.”

“Thank you, thank you,” he chuckled and used a nearby rag to wipe some grime off his hands. “Actually, speaking of Sir Guy, I believe I’ve finished all of the necessary pieces of the prototype.”

“Really?” your eyes glittered in excitement. “Already?”

He nodded and revealed to you a table littered with pieces. You hadn’t a clue what went where but it was an impressive sight nonetheless.

“I already sent ahead a few of the leg and arm pieces,” Tomaso said. “But the bits that go around the torso and stomach took a bit longer to produce. Do you think you could bring this inside? I need to check on the gauntlets— those are what I was working on before you stopped by.”

“You want me to bring these to Sir Guy?” 

“If you do not mind.”

“Certainly,” you replied and gathered up the finished pieces of armor. With a wave, you bid farewell to Tomaso and walked up to the door of Locksley manor as the ringing of his forging started to chime out once more.

“Good evening, my lady,” the guard, decorated in the Gisborne family colors said with a nod. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m here to deliver these to Sir Guy,” you replied and looked down at the pile of armor in your arms. “Is he in?”

“Yes ma’am, he should be in the parlor,” he said and stepped aside to allow you entrance into the manor. 

Walking inside, you found the place to be completely empty. There were no servants around nor were there any other guards and had you not spotted someone walking out of what you could only assume was the kitchen, you would have had no idea where to go.

“Excuse me?” you called out.

It was a man, an older man, with pale, wrinkled skin and grey hair. He had a kind face and smiled warmly as he walked over to you.

“Yes? How can I help you?”

“I was… I was wondering if you could take me to Sir Guy. I’m supposed to bring these to him.”

He looked down and noticed the armor and nodded in understanding. “Oh! This is the rest of it then?”

“Almost,” you replied. “I believe Tomaso is still working on the gauntlets.”

“Well, no matter,” he replied. “The master is already being fitted so I’m sure he will appreciate this little delivery.”

You followed him to the door that stood nearby and when he pushed it open, you were greeted with _quite_ the sight.

Guy stood in the center of the room, completely bare save for a pair of black cotton pants he wore underneath the pieces that had already been fitted. A fire crackled in the corner of the room while a servant boy, a little younger than you, assisted in adjusting the armor around Guy’s right arm. 

You couldn’t help the audible gasp that tumbles out of you and felt your face heat up when Guy’s head whipped up to gaze in your direction. 

His eyes widened slightly in surprise and he muttered something to the boy that all but scurries out of the room. 

“My lord, this lovely young lady comes bearing the rest of your armor,” the older gentleman said.

“Thank you, Thornton,” Guy replied. “You may leave us.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat when you heard the door close behind you and barely managed to offer Guy a shaky smile. 

“My apologies,” you muttered and lowered your gaze. “If I’d have known you were preoccupied, I would have simply left these in the care of one of your servants.”

You heard the metal _clack_ as he walked over towards you and it took all the willpower in your body not to raise your head. You had to preserve _some_ decency. 

“It’s alright,” he assured you. “Come, there is no need to act so bashfully.” 

You bit your lip at his teasing voice and carefully returned to stand upright, but you kept your eyes on his face. 

Your anxious laughter filled the quiet room as your nerves started to get the better of you and you thrust the pile of armor towards him. 

“As he said, I brought you these.”

He looked upon the assortment of parts in your grasp and gently took it from you, a part of your arm erupting with goose pimples when you felt his fingers linger there for a split second.

“Thank you,” he replied and smiled. “I’m surprised that Tomaso was able to complete it so quickly.”

You let loose a gasp you hadn't even known you were holding and a small bit of tension released itself from your shoulders. “Yes, I know. I was surprised as well.”

He placed the pieces on a nearby table and started to sift through them, his thick black eyebrows furrowed in deep thought as he attempted to deduce the function of each one. 

He looked so handsome, you thought, with his blue eyes smoldering under the light of the fire and strands of his hair perfectly framing his face. 

_What are you saying…_ you snapped at yourself. _His character does not become any more disingenuous because you find him handsome._

With a shake of your head, you attempted to drown out any thoughts ogling over Guy’s physique but, that proved a bit more difficult than anticipated considering what he was wearing… or rather, the _lack_ of what he was wearing. 

“Did you find anything useful about the stones?”

Good, talk of your work, this is something that you could get behind.

“Yes,” you replied with a nod of your head. “I discovered their overall composition, which, to the surprise of no one, is iron. Very rich iron, but iron nonetheless.”

“These are made of iron?” he asked and placed a piece on his forearm. 

“Yes and no,” you gave him a shy smile. “The iron needs to be melted down to steel first, which is what is then refined into the armor you see before you.”

“You surmised all this by simply looking at a few rocks?” he was genuinely surprised and a grin tugged at the ends of his lips. 

“It _is_ my job, Guy,” you replied with an equal amount of playfulness. “If I couldn’t identify some iron, well, I don’t think I could continue calling myself an alchemist.”

He chuckled and picked up a separate piece, one that was much larger, as though crafted for the torso. “Remarkable… what something like that can create.”

“I know, it’s so fascinating, isn’t it?” you gushed. “I’m glad that I was able to figure that out for you.”

He smiled, his expression soft under the light of the wavering firelight. You felt him grab a hold of one of your hands and gently lifted it to his lips, where he placed a sweet kiss on your knuckles.

Tingles shoot up your spine and you feel yourself flush from embarrassment. You had certainly _not_ expected that and it caught you completely off-guard.

“I greatly appreciate your help, m’lady,” he replied in his deep baritone, one that made you sigh wistfully until you brought yourself out of said reverie.

“Of course, Guy,” you said breathlessly and then cleared your throat. “I… I should head back now, the sheriff expected me to return before nightfall.”

Guy sighed and shook his head in disbelief. “That does not surprise me,” he murmured and stepped away from you as he went back to his armor. “I do appreciate you coming by to deliver this to me,” he said earnestly. “I hadn't expected you to visit me. Suffice to say, it certainly brightened up my day,” he gave you a charming smile, one that had you bashfully looking away from him as your cheeks burned. 

“I'm glad,” you replied. “I... I shall leave you to it then, Guy,” 

“Farewell,” he replied, in a voice so gentle that it nearly made you swoon once more. “And once again, thank you,”

With a bow, you departed Locksley manor and mounted your horse. The sky had started to turn pitch black, a few remaining patches of colorful twilight peppering the starry night. 

Arriving back at Nottingham castle, you were frankly exhausted and knew as soon as you landed on your bed, you would fall asleep. 

You nearly jump out of your skin when someone unexpectedly grabs your arm and you whirl around, eyes wide with fright. That is until you recognize _who_ it is that stood before you.

“Marian!” you snapped and shrugged off her grip. “You scared me half to death!”

“I apologize,” she replied. “It’s just that you did not respond when I called out to you.”

“Oh, yes, sorry,” you said sheepishly. “I might be a bit tired.”

“Busy day?” she wondered and leaned against the nearby wall.

“Suppose it was as busy as any other day,” you said and leaned beside her. “I _did_ however visit Locksley today,”

”Locksley? What for?”

“I had to return something of Guy’s,”

Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly, a slight irritation overcoming her every time she heard you say his name without an attached honorary. It was nearly impossible for her to hide the disdain she felt at how much time the two of you were spending together. For a moment, she was content with the supposition that it was all strictly business, but then this started, this _first-name-basis_. Were you becoming more personal with him? 

“Care to tell me what it is you were returning?”

”It’s...” you muttered, picking up on her untempered resentment. “It’s nothing—”

”Oh, come now, I _know_ you do not take me for a fool,” she snapped and placed her hands on her hips. 

Your cheeks burned under her intense gaze and you bashfully looked away, running your hands through your hair as you sighed hopelessly. 

Should you tell her what happened? 

“When I arrived at Locksley manor,” you began slowly and noticed her inch closer towards you. 

“Yes?”

”I saw Guy...” 

“You saw Guy...?” she repeated, urging you to spill your secret, and at that moment, you silently wished for nothing more than to disappear and save yourself from your impending mortification. 

“Bare-chested...” you squeaked out.

”What?” her stern expression broke out and she chuckled, having difficulty believing if that’s what she _truly_ heard. 

“He... he was _bare-chested!”_ you whispered harshly. “Just... standing there, in the middle of his parlor!”

“You saw him _naked?!”_

“Only _halfway_!” you snapped defiantly. “And it’s not as though I knew I would find him like that! I had _no_ other intentions save for delivering his goods back to him!”

“Did something happen?” she asked seriously. 

“No!” you immediately reply. “We simply… talked,”

“About…?”

“Work,” you said sharply.

Her lips pressed together into a tight frown at your defensive tone. “I hope you understand that I only mean to look out for you,” 

You sighed and leaned back on the soles of your feet, the palms of your hands resting on the cool stone wall as you cocked your head to the side to gaze over at her. 

“I know,” you replied softly. “You must find me so naive, stubbornly straying from your well-warranted warnings on the ridiculous grounds that I find him _handsome,”_

She gave you a sympathetic smile and reached over to give your arm a comforting squeeze.

“You are not wholly naive, there is often little one can do when your heart takes the lead of your desires, much to the mind's chagrin,” she said genuinely. “Even I believe there to be another side to Guy. I caught glimpses of it when we were together, but so long as he places power before anything else, he will always fall back on the same mistakes. He never learns,” she grumbled bitterly. “And that is why I must always insist you be cautious around him.”

The two of you stood there in silence for a moment as you took in her words.

“I hope you know that I appreciate all that you do for me me,” you replied and gave her a smile.

She returned the gesture with her own smile and gently nudged your shoulder with hers. “Us ladies must look out for one another, especially here.”

“Yes…” you agreed with a hearty chuckle and then your eyes glazed over for a moment and Marian looked over at you with concern.

”Is there something on your mind?”

“Hmm?” you replied and then shook your head, apologizing. “Forgive me, I must be drifting off faster than intended. The sheriff must think me a machine, dumping another task on me on top of my current assignment,” 

“What do you mean?”

“Gisborne came in with a box, he wanted me to identify what was inside,” you explained. 

“A box?” she wondered. “Did this box contain rocks?”

“Yes, how do you know about the stones?”

“You haven’t heard?” she asked, her voice bordering on a whisper.

“Heard what?”

She quickly glanced around the room to ensure that the two of you were truly alone and she takes a step closer to you as she says, “Earlier today, a young boy was apprehended in Locksley. He had been part of a group that accidentally stumbled upon Guy testing out some new armor.”

“Marian,” you interjected. “How do _you_ know about the armor?”

The question frazzled her and she attempted to brush it off when it suddenly dawned on you.

Ah, Robin.

“Yes,” she replied to your silent conclusion. “But, that is not important. What _is_ important is that said boy is being held, hostage.”

_“What?”_

She nodded her head. “He was assisted by Robin in trying to help his friends escape but got caught in the process. The sheriff says that the boy will hang… if Robin does not return the stones that he stole.”

To say you were confused would be an understatement. You had been given a sample of the iron earlier today, so it’s not as though Robin has stolen the lot of it. Although… there _had_ only been two chunks within your small sample and you sincerely doubted that any blacksmith, no matter the talent, would be able to forge an entire suit of armor with those pieces alone. Was this incident to blame for the sheriff’s earlier warnings of Guy’s foul mood? 

“He would do that? Hang a small boy to get those things back?” you’re utterly appalled, even more so when you think that Guy, his right-hand-man, had done nothing to stop it.

She laughs sardonically. “This is the sheriff we’re talking about. He’ll do anything he can to ensure that he gets his way.”

“You said this is happening in Locksley?” you wondered and swallowed a heavy lump in your throat. “Guy would allow a _child_ to be hanged on his estates?”

Marian takes an imposing step forward and grips your shoulder with a surprising amount of force. “This is what I’ve been trying to tell you,” she hissed. “He tries to lure you in with sweet words and gifts and empty promises only to come crawling back to the sheriff. His lust for power snuffs out any hope you’d have for him to show even the most basic amounts of empathy. Guy is _dangerous_ and you must understand that at the end of the day, it’ll always be he and the sheriff. There’s no room in his life for anything else.”

A cold chill races down your spine at her ominous words and you suddenly feel so foolish. You’d been ogling at this man mere hours ago without a clue as to what he’d been up to during the day. How utterly _careless._

Marian’s grip slackens and her hand moves to embrace your own and gives you a comforting squeeze. “I apologize,” she said, her head bowed. “It seems I’ve upset you.”

“No,” you said with a shake of your head. “No… you’re right. I know nothing about Guy and I suppose I needed a harsh reality check after tonight’s visit,” you sigh and chuckle quietly to yourself, your shoulders sagging a bit under Marian’s intense stare.

“You are no fool for believing otherwise,” she stated again in all honesty. “I too once thought he could change… but the truth always comes out in due time.”

“What will happen to the boy?” you asked, wishing to change the subject. “Surely Robin will not allow him to hang.”

“The sheriff is counting on it. I will be traveling to Locksley in the morning with his whole convoy. I can fill you in on what occurred when I return.”

“I would appreciate that very much,” you said and finally managed to smile. “Thank you, Marian.”

She returned the gesture and stepped away from you to allow you some space. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer, I’m sure today was filled with more than enough excitement.”

“You can say that again,” you grumbled. “I’ll… see you tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow morning,” she confirmed and with a bow she departed from you and disappeared around a nearby corner, leaving you to head to bed with muddled thoughts as you eagerly awaited the next day.

❈

You awoke with a disgruntled groan but upon remembering the conversation you shared with Marian, you quickly got started on the day. You surmised that they most likely wouldn’t be back till later in the morning, so you took your time getting ready and decided to spend a few hours in the lab to keep your mind busy.

You were quickly engrossed in your work and had it not been for the tolling of the nearby church bells, you surely would’ve lost track of time. 

_They must be back by now,_ you thought, and peered outside for any sort of indication. Much to your chagrin, the halls were quiet and empty, save for the few guards that stood posted nearby. 

What was taking so long? 

Opening the doors with a huff you thought perhaps you should check on Sir Edward. 

The two of you had become quite close in the span of these last few months and you always relished the time you, he, and Marian spent together. He was quite charming and one of his favorite past times was in the telling of engaging stories of Marian’s childhood.

She tolerated the ones she deemed harmless but it always brought you to tears at how utterly _embarrassed_ she got whenever Edward told of her former relationship with Robin.

A particular favorite of yours was most definitely the tale of Robin breaking his arm while he attempted to climb up the beams of Knighton Hall in order to sneak into Marian’s room one evening. A symptom of young love, he called it.

It also made you so happy to see how much healthier he’d become since the start of your treatment. The sight of him when you first met still pained you so, but that was all in the past, he was a whole new man now! 

Walking down the hall in the direction of his room, your fingers fiddled with the string tied around the tiny medicine bag that lay in your pocket. You silently hoped Marian had beat you to his room, delighting in the thought of hearing yet another adorable childhood memory. 

You were startled out of your thoughts as you stumbled upon the scene before you.

The sheriff stood off to the side, Sir Guy, ever the loyal servant, right beside him. Two guards were currently dragging Sir Edward from his room while another two were desperately trying to hold back an utterly hysterical Marian.

She had tears running down her face and she struggled to break free from the tight holds on her arms. “Let me _go!”_ she shrieked. “You cannot do this! Please! Let my father go!”

“Sheriff!” you shouted and ran over to them.

Marian’s expression lit up at the sight of you and she sniffled, her eyes red and puffy from all her crying. “Please! Tell them that this is madness! Tell them that my father is too ill!” she begged before she started to sob once more.

“What is she talking about?” you snapped and faced the sheriff with a determined stare.

“Oh, I was really hoping to do away with this,” he muttered under his breath before he turned to face you, a sneer on his face. 

“One thing you will learn very quickly, my dear, is that I do _not_ tolerate dissent,” he hissed, the venom in his voice making your confidence fracture and shrink under his heated gaze. “Marian here cost me my smithy to save this incompetent oaf,” he jibes at Gisborne. “And now I have no rocks, no blacksmith, and no armor,”

“Then why punish Sir Edward?”

“Because!” he exclaimed and you jumped from fright. “If she cannot learn how to behave herself, then maybe her dear little daddy rotting away in a cell will teach her that her actions have consequences.”

“My lord, you cannot,” you said. “Sir Edward, he is frail, sending him to the dungeons is surely a death sentence—”

“That is precisely the point,” he snapped and glared at you with his beady black eyes. “She should be lucky that I didn’t have him executed where he slept,” he snarled and grabbed a tight hold of your arm as he pulled you close. “Now, I know that you and this little leper have been getting along quite nicely, but I needn’t remind you who it is you work for, hmm?”

You felt your stomach drop and you swallowed your pride as you slowly nodded your head in response. 

“Good,” he said, his hollow voice causing a chill to run through your very bones. With a snap of his fingers, both Edward and Marian are dragged away to opposite sides of the castle, their terrified and mournful cries ringing around you as they vanished from sight. 

Guy hesitated to follow after the sheriff, almost as though he wished to say something, but ultimately thought against it and began to walk away.

That is until you stopped his advance by swiftly grabbing a tight hold of his wrist. 

He’s startled and whips his head around to look at you.

“What happened in Locksley?” your voice is quiet and you have to stop yourself from trembling as you stared up at him. Whether it was from rage or fear you were unsure, but one thing was certain, you needed to get to the bottom of this.

He attempted to break free from your hold but your grip remained firm and he heaved a heavy sigh. “That is none of your concern—”

“It _is_ my concern when the both of you feel it necessary to abuse my friend!” you snarled. “What did the sheriff say? Tomaso left? Why did he leave?”

“Because Marian held a knife to his back,” Guy quipped.

Your eyes widen slightly from shock and for a brief moment, you’re taken aback, before your resolve kicks in again and you steeled your frazzled nerves. 

“Why?” 

He’s quiet and his eyes dart away to refrain from looking at your face.

“Why, Guy?”

“To save me,” he can see the surprise on your face and decides to continue. “A part of the sheriff’s plan was for me to test out the armor Tomaso had made against Robin Hood. It had been working brilliantly,” he beamed, but then his mood instantly soured and a grimace spread across his lips. “Until he covered me in pitch and shot me with a fire arrow.”

_“What?”_

“I jumped into a nearby vat of water to try and douse the flames, but Hood took advantage of the situation, and…” his jaw clenched in anger and his next few words came out in a growl. “He started to drown me. His next trade was clear: my life for the stones.”

You’re quiet for a moment, taking all this in, and feel yourself unconsciously loosen the hold you had on his wrist. “I’m assuming Vasey went through with it.”

Guy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Not willingly. Even while I was being docked, I could still hear what he was saying. He more than likely would have let me drown had…” his voice trails off as the realization finally catches up with him. “Had Marian not stepped in and threatened Tomaso’s life.”

“And this is how you repay her?” you snapped and startled him from his thoughts. “By throwing her decrepit father into the dungeons?”

“She defied the sheriff,” he said firmly. “She must be punished!”

“She saved your _life!”_ you exclaimed. “And do you even hear yourself speak? The sheriff had been content with letting you drown today to save his precious project. Does that not affect you? Do you not see how he manipulates everyone around him in order to further his _own_ goals?” 

Your grip slackened and it moved to gently hold his hand. He gasped quietly, in utter disbelief that you were willing to offer him up a simple kindness even in a moment such as this. 

A sudden sadness swiftly overwhelms your gaze and you take a step forward to softly say, “How can you be so blind?”

You finally relinquished your hold, departing from him with one final stare before you turned on your heel and left him alone in the cold, dark hallways of the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi my name is aurélia and i am physically incapable of writing anything shorter than 5,000 words
> 
> anyyywayss... here's chapter 4!! it's a long one!! it's also pretty obvious where this takes place in the series timeline. what did you think? i had a lot of fun writing the scene at Locksley teehee ;) things are finally starting to pick up the pace and the next couple chapters are some of my absolute favorites!! 
> 
> hope you're enjoying things so far. tysm for all of your support. i'll see u soon with chapter 5 <3


	5. Silver

The punishment should fit the crime. 

At least, so the old saying goes. However, it was becoming increasingly clear that the motives behind the punishment dealt out to both Marian and her father were leaning closer to _masochism_ than reformatory. 

Sir Edward’s frail state naturally worsened in the squalor of the castle dungeons and it was not long till Marian discovered that they had even forgone _feeding_ him. They made her beg, beg the very men that were making her suffer for even an _ounce_ of humanity. But in the end, they agreed, after all, couldn’t have him _starving_ to death so soon, where would be the fun in that?

It wasn’t till now that Marian took for granted what little freedom she previously had under her house arrest, for the castle was even more _stifling_ than ever.

She couldn’t find a moment’s peace to herself, every waking hour meticulously scrutinized by both the sheriff and his lackeys. She couldn’t even find solace in her quarters, hardly being able to relax knowing that at least one guard stood posted outside her door at all times.

It was only when she found herself standing before the wrought iron door of your laboratory did fate take a turn and they decided to unclasp these watchful chains. The first time it happened, she could hardly believe her eyes. They said that they trusted you, after all, you were the sheriff’s esteemed alchemist! What could two _women_ possibly get up to? 

There were many a time that the willful ignorance plaguing men only furthered to not only belittle you but frustrate you as well. But, this was not one of those times, in fact, you were grateful for it.

It was here, within the safe confines of your lab, she was able to speak freely and express anything that came to mind. Marian knew in her heart that you were her last _true_ friend in the castle, and she desperately clung to the few hours the guards allotted to be in your company.

You would sit in silence, respectfully listening to her rant on how abhorrently the sheriff was treating both her and her father and how he was practically smothering her in surveillance. It was during one of these heated conversations that the tone shifted, a much darker air seeping into the weary atmosphere, and she let slip a name… 

The Black Knights.

The idea of Vasey participating in a coup to kill King Richard had been mere superstition up to this point, but it was this moment that officially solidified your suspicions. Marian presented various pieces of evidence that both she and Robin managed to discreetly gather and you were made acutely aware of the dark political underbelly that brewed under Nottingham. 

As things currently stood, the sheriff was in the process of fortifying his allies, taking special attention to garner any of those that own land near the coast.

Marian told of a man, Henry of Lewes, who returned from the Holy Land on the sole purpose of relaying which port the king would be landing in on his voyage back home. Fortunately, thanks to Robin and his gang, this plan was thwarted and Henry was silenced. You both knew that this would do little to deter the sheriff’s overall scheme, but the fact that even a little more time had been bought to plan a counterattack, set some of your nerves at ease. 

You learned that shortly before your arrival, _Marian_ had been the key to foiling many of the sheriff’s plans, strategically using her position in the castle to her advantage. However, as things stood now, it was nearly impossible for her to continue the fight on this front since the castle guards were now insufferably attached to her at all times. 

“It’s maddening,” she hissed out as the two of you talked, a frustrated sigh escaping her. “I feel so useless…locked in this cage—locked in by this _weasel_ that’s taken control of my life!”

She growled and slammed her palms on the stone windowsill, her head hung low in defeat. Her shoulders sagged and she took a deep breath, her curly hair dancing behind her as a breeze flew in from the forest.

“You know he’s asked me,” she said softly and cocked her head to the side to glance over at you. “Robin,” she clarified at your confused expression. “He’s asked me to join him, to be a part of his gang and live with him in the forest,” 

Getting up from your seat, you silently pad over to stand beside her and join Marian in looking out the window, out into the world below.

“Did he?” you mused and your gaze traveled to the expansive woods of Sherwood, its tall, ancient trees swaying softly to the rhythm of the wind. You noticed that a few of the leaves had begun to shift in color, a bright yellow hue intermingling with the vibrant greens, a sure sign that autumn was quickly encroaching on the waning summer.

“There are times I find myself entertaining the idea, escaping the castle in a grand spectacle that leaves little doubt that the _meek_ and _obedient_ Lady Marian was colluding with Robin Hood,”

You both chuckled but then her smile slowly faded, her eyebrows furrowing together as she sighed once more. 

“If only it were that simple,” she said forlornly. “But, I cannot abandon my father. It is my duty to take care of him and… and I cannot even do _that,”_ her voice cracked slightly in anguish and you gently placed your hand over one of her own.

“Marian, do not place the blame wholly on yourself, you are doing everything that you can in spite of your situation,” you replied. “It’s incredibly admirable that even now, even after everything that they’ve taken from you, you still want to fight,”

“I appreciate your kind words,” she said and offered you a half-hearted smile. “But even _that_ has been stolen from me. How am I supposed to help Robin with a goon attached to my hip?”

You’re silent for a moment, allowing the sounds of the townsfolk and the market down below to ring out around you. 

Had the sheriff planned for this to happen? Did he have his suspicions that Marian was betraying him to an outlaw? That could certainly be true, it would help explain why she was under watch through all hours of the day. It could also explain why he locked up Sir Edward, an avid and vocal supporter of King Richard. Perhaps he feared what could happen should anyone stand up against his fear-mongering and remind them all what it is they should be fighting for, _who_ it is they should be fighting for.

As you mulled this over, it became all the more apparent the only reason Vasey recruited you to be his alchemist in the first place was in this pursuit of fortifying his treacherous legion. The black powder, the armor… all important pieces in creating the perfect army ensured to win a hypothetical civil war. 

Except, it _wasn’t_ hypothetical. At this very moment, there were powerful people in all corners of the country meeting in secret, quietly planning the downfall of their king. In fact, it was partially thanks to _you_ they’d inevitably made invaluable progress and that thought alone made bile rise up in your throat. 

But a swift and sudden determination took hold of you then and you silently came to a decision. You would not sit idly by while these greedy men, twisted in their pursuits of dominating power, weaved their own personal selfishness into the fabric of everyone’s reality; who knows what chaos awaited should this plan succeed and Prince John secede the throne. 

You turn to face Marian and grab hold of her shoulder. She jumps slightly at the sudden intrusion and looks over at you with wide eyes.

There’s a certain level of tenacity in your gaze that makes her eyebrows rise up in surprise, eager anticipation huddling between you two as you smiled.

“Let _me_ help you then,”

She’s taken aback, her mouth parting open in quiet shock. She blinked a few times and then chuckled, her laughter mired in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” she wondered teasingly. 

A few seconds of silence passed and her smile faded almost as quickly as it came, her voice lowering slightly as she said, “Oh, you’re _serious.”_

She suddenly frowned and pulled away from your embrace to fold her arms across her chest. “What you’re suggesting is a very dangerous business. Do you know what’ll happen if any of them find you out?”

“One cannot gain anything without first giving something in return,” you replied with a wry smile. “I’d say that my life is a small price to pay for the whole of England,” 

Marian gasped and one of her hands clutched at the lapels of her dress, resting over her frantic heart. Her gaze then flickered to the side, her features contorted in anxiety as she sighed. “Of course you’d know the risks better than anyone,” she muttered, more to herself than you. “I assume any and all attempts at me trying to stop you will be pointless?”

“You already know the answer to that, Marian,”

A shy smile formed on her lips and she nodded her head. “Indeed, I do,” she placed both her hands on your shoulders and gave them a firm squeeze. “You are mad,” she laughed. “But you are also selfless and true and I am honored to have met someone like you.”

You grinned and pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m so thankful for meeting you as well, Marian,” you replied. 

Gently pulling away, you took a step back and sighed. “I suppose I could pay Vasey a visit, see what he has planned,” you glanced over at the door and crept closer to Marian, your voice hushed as you whispered, “How exactly do you report your findings to Robin?”

“Leave that to me,” she said. “I’m more familiar with his patterns and means of communication, it’ll help keep things simple.”

You gave her a sly smirk as you leaned back on your heels. “Is that so?” you said amusingly. “You wouldn’t happen to be trying to dissuade me, would you Marian? Trying to keep him all to yourself?”

A ferocious red blush crept up into her cheeks and she turned away from you as she stuttered, “That’s… that’s not what I meant—”

“Are you _sure?”_ you hummed and had to fight back the cackling laughter that threatened to ensue as she turned away from you bashfully. 

“I’ll… I’ll let Robin know that you’re offering to help us,” she huffed and silently glared at the big smile on your face. “In the meantime, you should attempt to remain as inconspicuous as possible. I’m sure the sheriff is more than a little weary since you’ve been spending so much time with me,”

“I’ll be careful,” you said. “I’ve always had to keep my wits about me. After all, I _am_ an educated woman in a man’s world,”

You both grinned cheekily and as you bid her farewell, the promise to begin a silent revolt against Vasey's tyranny made resolute. 

Seeking to upkeep your oath, you headed to your room, wishing to change into something more formal as you sought council with the sheriff. 

Turning a corner, you’re shocked into a standstill when you discover Guy standing before your bedroom door.

You call out to him as you approach, your eyebrows raised up in curiosity. You noticed a parcel in his hands and he nervously followed in after you as you entered your bed chambers.

“Can I help you with something, Guy?” you wondered, your attention moving from the package up to his face.

He smiled shyly and shuffled the parcel in his hands. “I’m sure by now you’ve deduced the reasoning behind my visit,”

“Yes,” you mused, a smile curling at the ends of your lips at his playful tone. “Care to tell me what it is?”

He gives it to you and your fingers poke and prod at the paper in an attempt to make out the contents.

“Open it,” he instructed and watched you carefully as you plopped it onto your bed.

Unraveling the wrappings, a small gasp gets lodged in your throat as your eyes land on a beautiful tippet. It was made of an incredibly soft fur, grey in color that shimmered almost blue in the light of the sun, and it had a fluffy white undercoat. 

“Is this… for me?” 

“Of course,” Guy chuckled. “Who else could it be for?”

“Did you buy this for me?”

A light rosy blush flared on his cheeks as he nodded his head. “Today is a day for celebrating, it should only make sense that you are gifted a token in honor of this special day,”

“What is it that we’re celebrating?” you asked curiously.

“The king’s birthday,”

Your eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion and you abandoned your present to take an imposing step forward, hands placed derisively on your hips. “Is that _all_ we’re celebrating?”

Guy’s cheery demeanor faltered at your challenge and he turned away from your heated stare. For a moment he seemed disappointed in himself, as if wishing that was _truly_ the only reason, however, this was quickly masked over by the controlled facade you’d come to know so well.

“Clever girl,” he whispered and a chill raced down your spine, one that left you drawing away from him ever so slightly. “We are also celebrating the signing of an important document,”

“What _sort_ of document?” 

He’s quiet, carefully thinking over his next choice of words. “One that’ll bring me into even more _power.”_

Immediately Guy knows that he said the wrong thing and you dramatically roll your eyes, throwing your hands up into the air out of exasperation. 

“It’s all about _power_ with you, isn’t it?”

Your words are harsh and your tone filled with malice and it takes Guy by surprise, unprepared for such a harrowing response.

“Whatever do you mean?”

Your jaw is clenched tight, your lips pursed shut; you have said too much. Your hands ball up into fists beside you and you abate your tongue from ruining yourself even further. 

“It’s… nothing, never mind,” you hastily muttered and turned your back to him.

You feel him grab your arm and you whirl around, eyes wide with fright, fearing your fate sealed and that he was off to cart you to the dungeons for your insolence.

His grip immediately relinquished and he stood there in a shocked stupor, his hands falling limply to his sides as he took a step back. An array of emotions swam behind his clear blue eyes, his head hung low in remorse. There was something on his mind, something that he wished to say, but he ignored these thoughts and softly cleared his throat instead.

“The sheriff is hosting a party in honor of the king’s birthday. He expects you to be in attendance. We shall be having guests over so he wishes for you to be… _presentable,”_ his eyes squinted closed as if it pained him to say this.

With one final glance, he gave you an awkward yet curt bow before abruptly leaving your room.

The air was tense around you, the weight of all that remained unspoken settling over you like a heavy blanket. Why did you insist on making things so much more complicated? Hadn’t you already come to terms that he’d long since resigned himself to this life of treason and manipulation? Why were you constantly battling against his instilled notions? And why did you believe it to be _working?_

You took a deep breath to put a stop to these rampant thoughts and composed yourself, forcing your attention to the new information you managed to garner.

The sheriff was inviting a group of esteemed guests over to sign an important document, which most definitely meant that it was the _Black Knights_ currently en route to Nottingham.

Putting on one of your more extravagant dresses, you draped the _gris_ tippet across your shoulders and made haste for Marian’s room. You hadn’t a clue how much time you had till the guests arrived so you practically ran down the hallways and frantically wrapped on her door.

Curiously, the sound of _two_ voices could be heard and it immediately set you on edge. Had someone overheard the two of you? Was she currently being interrogated under pretense for threatening to expose the sheriff and his schemes? 

Briefly, you thought of running away, concerned that should someone less than favorable open the door, it would only confirm their suspicions and you’d both be arrested or worse… _executed._

 _Get a grip,_ you snapped at yourself and knocked on her door again, this time calling out to her.

“Marian?”

The door was yanked open so quickly that it made you jump and you’re hurriedly rushed into the room with a firm tug on your arm.

“Did anyone see you?” Marian asked firmly.

“What? No!” you exclaimed and tugged your arm out of her tight grip. “Why does it matter?”

“Well, I’d rather _not_ get arrested today if you don’t mind,”

A completely foreign voice pipes up behind you and whirling around you come face-to-face with a man. He was fairly tall, with shaggy brown hair and his fair face flecked with dirt, topped off by a scraggly beard. His eyes sparkled in silent delight at your surprise and he chuckled, casually leaning against the curve of a very impressive bow. 

“My apologies,” he said cheekily. “You probably weren’t expecting to find me here,”

“No, I wasn’t,” you snapped and glanced over at Marian. “Who is he?”

“You can’t tell?” he said with a dramatic flourish of his arms. “Surely someone as astute as yourself should be able to figure it out.”

You frowned and were about to make a comment on his enormous ego until you took another look at him. The fact that he was in _Marian’s_ chambers, this _man,_ this… this man carrying a _bow—_

_“Robin of Locksley?”_

He made an approving face and smiled. “Oh, I haven’t heard _that_ name in a while! Ever since _Robin Hood_ got popular, that’s all they’ve been calling me these days!” he laughed and took a step forward to extend out his hand in greeting. “But, I’m glad to see that you still recognize me as the _true_ lord of Locksley,” 

You smiled shyly and introduced yourself but he made it quite clear that he’d known about you since you first stepped foot into Nottingham castle. Rather peculiar, however, considering how interlocked he was in the sheriff’s affairs, it came as no surprise that he should know all about his newfound _ally._

“What are you doing here?” you asked in a hushed tone.

“I was just dropping in,” he joked.

“How did you even get _in_ here?”

“Now _that_ I cannot reveal to you. Can’t have you telling the sheriff about my secret passages now can we?”

Your mouth parted open in shock and you felt your face grow hot, upset that he’d ever think such a thing. “I wasn’t… I would never—!”

“Enough,” Marian snapped and brought the two of you out of it. “Robin came here because he saw a group of black riders heading in this direction,” she explained which satiated your curiosity. “And she is my friend, you know this Robin,” she stated plainly at him. “She’s even gone so far as to offer up her assistance to our cause.”

At this, his eyebrows rose up in surprise and he turned back to face you. “Really?”

“Yes,” you said with a firm nod of your head.

“So you’re aware of the sheriff’s plan to dethrone the king? You’re aware of the Black Knights?”

“Yes.”

“And you _still_ wish to help us?”

You grew irritated at his lack of faith, failing to understand exactly what it is Robin wanted from you. 

_“Yes,”_ you snapped, hardly holding back your attitude. 

Robin approached you with an air of caution, his voice lowered a bit as he asked, “Can I trust you?”

“Wholeheartedly,” you replied in an instant.

He carefully scanned over your features, taking you all in and silently assessing the true merit of your words. A few tense seconds pass by before he breaks open into another smile and he endearingly pats you on the shoulder.

“Welcome aboard,” he grinned triumphantly. “I’m sure you’ll prove to be mighty useful,” 

“I might as well prove my usefulness now,” you replied. “Guy stopped by my quarters earlier—”

“I see he’s still in the habit of giving gifts,” Marian interjected snarkily and gestured at your tippet. 

You absentmindedly tucked it closer around yourself under her scrutiny and attempted to wave off her quizzical expression. “That is irrelevant. He _did,_ however _,_ let slip the reasoning for the Black Knights assembling today; they’re to be signing an important document,”

Robin is instantly intrigued. “Document? What kind of document?”

“I do not know the specifics, but he did mention that it would somehow bring him into even greater power.”

Robin and Marian exchanged glances with each other and they both frowned. 

“The sheriff is _definitely_ up to something,” Robin said. “We need to find that document.”

“But where would you even _begin_ your search?”

“Oh! The scribe!” Marian blurted out. “He died earlier this morning, fell from the top of the castle battlements,”

“Outlived his usefulness?” Robin barked, one of his eyebrows raised incredulously.

“I’m assuming as much,” Marian replied. “I know where his room is, I’m sure we’ll be able to find out everything we need to know in there.”

“Good,” Robin said with a nod of his head. “Do you wish to accompany us?”

You’re surprised and flattered, that he’d even think to ask but you decline with a firm shake of the head. “Thank you, but no. I should probably head out to the gate and make my scheduled appearance, the sheriff is wishing me to take part in the festivities after all,”

“So you were forced into attendance as well?” a smirk quirked up the ends of Marian’s lips and she chuckled at your annoyed expression. “Fortune smiles upon you today for I was _also_ asked to come,”

You sigh in relief and smile. At least you would have Marian by your side during such an uncomfortable time. 

“I’ll see you later then,” you said and placed your hand on the door handle. “Be careful.”

“We will,” Marian gave you a confident smile and with that, you swiftly shut the door behind you and made for the castle courtyard.

Your eyebrows are furrowed together, your face marred in deep thought as your mind threw together an endless array of possibilities. What could this mysterious document possibly be? Were the lords on their way to sign over their lands to Vasey and prove their allegiance to the cause? Is that why Guy said he’d acquire more power?

You take a deep breath to clear your thoughts when your eyes finally landed on Guy, who currently stood beside the sheriff.

He was sporting his usual leather attire but he certainly preened for the occasion, with his neatly combed back hair and fresh face. 

The sheriff was dressed in his signature black cotton robes, an elegant fur coat trailing behind him as he bounced excitedly on the soles of his feet. 

Guy was the first to take notice of you and his eyes light up when he sees that you’re wearing the tippet, overcome with a sudden glee that you’d actually worn your present. 

He smiles at you and takes a few steps away from the sheriff to greet you. 

“I’m glad that you could make it, my lady,” he said with a shy smile.

You offer him one in return and step up beside him as you enter the courtyard and wait on the top of the stone steps.

“Of course, I… wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you forced a smile as the sheriff turned to face you and he acknowledged you with a curt expression.

You feel a gentle touch on your arm and your head tilts up to look at Guy. He stares down at you, his eyes filled with sympathy and you’re taken aback. His grip is soft and almost comforting, and you feel your cheeks burn. 

You turn your attention to the portcullis when you hear the thunderous sound of hooves clashing against the stone, but your hand reaches up and carefully envelopes a few of his fingers. With a light squeeze, you give a small expression of gratitude before quickly retracting your grip and letting it rest at your side.

Two carriages pulled in as the horns sounded off to announce their arrival and the sheriff grinned and eagerly rushed down the stairs to welcome his guests.

There were both wiry little men that were _far_ too handsy for your liking. You heard the names, Buckingham and Spencer before they were thankfully ushered to follow a few guards to the guest quarters. More and more guests slowly trickled through the gate and you counted that nine had so far arrived and yet, Vasey still remained waiting at the top of the steps. 

“Apologies,”

Turning around you are filled with utter relief as Marian appears and walks up to stand next to you. 

Guy glanced over his shoulder and huffed. “So, you _finally_ decided to show,”

“I found myself occupied with a personal matter,” she replied curtly. “But, I am here now,”

He merely scoffed and resumed peering at the gates in the anticipation of their last guest.

Marian inched closer to you and smiled, discreetly whispering, “I have some updates about our little _talk_ earlier,”

“Oh?”

One last carriage pulled into the courtyard and the trumpets ring out just as she says, “I’ll tell you later.”

Vasey grinned and opened his arms in greeting as a man walked out, a snide smile on his face.

“Delighted to welcome Harold of Winchester in joining our celebrations of the king’s birthday!” 

This man was much older than a majority of the previous lords you'd met. He had thick greying hair and a beard that was flecked in white, wearing luxurious clothes and an impressive cloak that billowed behind him in the wind. His face was aged and hid a wit that was sure to cause some trouble.

He and Vasey were wrapped up in a conversation and you barely made out the words ‘Edward’ and ‘dungeon’ before the sheriff turned to glance up at Guy.

“Gisborne will show you to your quarters,” he said and darted past the three of you as he headed into the castle.

“This way, my lord,” Guy announced and strode past you in the direction of the west-wing. 

Winchester headed Guy’s call but suddenly stopped when his eyes landed on Marian. He stood there for a moment, confused, almost bewildered, unable to believe what it is he was seeing.

Marian frowned, off-put by his intense staring and you took a protective step forward as Guy called out to him again.

“My lord?” he said, with a raise of his eyebrow.

That seemed to snap Winchester out of it and he quietly apologized before following Guy’s lead into the castle.

“What was that all about?” you muttered, glaring at the retreating form of this Harold of Winchester.

“I have no idea,” Marian replied, rather unsettled by the whole thing. “Perhaps… he recognized me?”

“Do you know him?”

“Yes,” she grabbed your arm and urged you to follow her. “He’s a friend of my father’s, they’ve known each other since they were boys. He’s actually a part of the plan that Robin and I divised,”

“Plan?” you whispered. “What plan?”

“We discovered the document that Guy was talking about,” she explained in a hushed voice. “The Great Pact of Nottingham— it's a treaty that all the members of the Black Knights will sign, swearing their allegiance to Prince John, who they claim as the true king of the realm,”

“Ridiculous,” you spat. “I cannot believe that they were all so easily ensnared by Vasey’s lies,”

“The promise of money and power do wonders in bending the mind to an evil will,” 

“You can say that again,”

She stopped before your laboratory, both of you breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of guards posted around the area. 

“So what does this have to do with Winchester?” you wondered and pushed open the door, slamming it shut behind Marian once she was inside.

“Robin has convinced him not to sign the pact,” she replied. “Some of the others are nervous and if he falters, then they will not be far behind. During the meeting, he will refuse and amongst the ensuing chaos, Robin and his gang will appear and rescue Winchester and my father,”

Your eyes light up at the news and you grin. “Well, this is fantastic!”

She smiled at you as well, but it faltered slightly and a sudden sadness brewed on her face. “Yes, but… I hope that you understand that I intend to go with them,”

“Who?”

“My father and Robin,” she replied and she sighed forlornly as the realization hit you. “I shall be leaving with them.”

“Oh…” 

There’s a melancholy in the air, one that fills your heart and pangs echoes of loneliness throughout your soul. The one you trusted in, confided in, the one that was your anchor amongst all tumultuous storms… was leaving. 

But amongst the sadness was a feeling of hope. She would finally be free of the constant abuse at the hands of the sheriff. Edward would have time to recuperate and start his life anew and Marian would be with the love of her life. It was almost selfish for wishing she could stay and this sense of loss changed, morphing into a sense of happiness, and slowly, your expression lit up and you gave her a smile.

“I’m glad,” you said and placed a hand on her shoulder as you pulled her into a hug. 

She hesitantly returned the embrace, her frame trembling a bit as she bit back tears. “Really?” she gasped.

“Of course, my friend,” you said and pulled away to look at her. 

Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes and you brushed them away with the pad of your thumbs. 

“You deserve to be free, you deserve to be _happy,”_

She smiled and sniffled, dabbing at the corner of her watery eyes with her sleeve. “Thank you,” she mumbled. “I feel terrible having to leave you here, but…”

“I already know I’m more useful here than out in the woods,” you mused. “I’m not exactly known for my abilities in thievery and it’d be a disaster for everyone involved to see me handle a weapon,”

She laughed and took a firm hold of both your hands. “I’m going to miss you terribly,” she said and bit down on her lower lip to keep it from quivering. 

“I’ll miss you too,” you replied. “But, this is for the best,”

She nodded her head and stepped away, frantically wiping away at the tears that continued to stream down her cheeks.

“I should…” she sniffled. “I should probably get ready to go, pack a few things,”

You hummed softly in agreement and followed her to the door. “Do not think of this as a goodbye, I shall see you again soon, Marian,” you said with a glint in your eyes.

She smiled and nodded her head in agreement. “Yes, we shall see each other again soon.”

Without another word she raced down the hallway, disappearing into the shadows of the castle as she prepared to make her daring escape.

You sighed and walked back into the lab, fondly reminiscing for a few moments before you trekked over to one of the counters and plopped down on a stool. Marian said that the castle would find itself in disarray, so the least you could do was pass the time with a little reading.

Settling on one of the many books that detailed the recipes and discoveries of a particular alchemist, you immersed yourself in the reading, becoming engrossed in the hidden themes of the intricate _decnamen._

It was peaceful, sitting in your lab, casually reading as a light breeze danced through the windows and the song of a few birds filtered in from the outside. You’d almost forgotten why you’d brought yourself here in the first place…

The door suddenly flies open and you yelp, the book tumbling from your lap and landing onto the stone floor in a heap.

Guy stands at the entrance, his eyes wide, and you can tell from his demeanor alone that something is wrong, something is _terribly_ wrong.

“Guy?” you said and ran over to him. 

“Listen to me,” he was frantic and grabbed a firm hold of your hand. “You must find Marian and you must get her out of here,”

“Marian?” you certainly weren’t expecting that. “Why? What’s going on?”

“Winchester’s made a deal with the sheriff and she’s become a part of the negotiation,”

“Negotiation? What, is the sheriff in the negotiation of _people_ now?”

“There was nothing I could do!” he said remorsefully. “The sheriff has agreed to the deal, she is to be leaving with Winchester at the end of the day,” he sighed, his touch fading away and his hands clenching into fists at his side.

“If the sheriff knew I was telling you this, my own life would be in danger,” he muttered and forgone your wide-eyed stare. 

Irritation coursed through your veins and you grabbed a tight hold of his wrists and forced him to look upon you. “Then _why_ do you work for him?” you seethed. 

You notice him flinch at your harsh tone and a flash of vulnerability erupts in his blue eyes, a sight that takes you by complete surprise. 

“I have nobody,” he replied somberly.

“So you choose the _sheriff?”_

The end of your question trails off as your voice shakes from both frustration and pity. Here he was, defying the sheriff at this very moment so you could go and warn Marian, and yet still unable to wholly let go of his undying loyalty towards the man.

“I choose _power_ ,” he replied earnestly and you ripped your hands off him as though you’d been burned.

“And what good has that gotten you, Guy?” you snarled. “Tell me!”

“Position! Standing!” he retorted.

“But at what cost?” you replied, desperately trying to get him to see how truly _terrible_ Vasey was. “The sheriff is mad and you know it,”

“No, he…” Guy stuttered. “He… he is single-minded, he does not allow… _distractions_ to pervert him from the course,”

“Distractions?” you challenged and he immediately looked away from you. Taking a bold step forward, you fold your arms across your chest and defiantly stare up at him. “What _sort_ of distractions? A little empathy? Some humanity?”

His gaze flickered back to you and he gasped softly when he noticed how much closer you’d gotten. “They’re… they’re all a weakness—”

“I _know_ you don’t believe that,” you said firmly and gently interlocked your fingers with one of his hands. 

The two of you stood there in silence, that same intensity overtaking the room, those same unspoken feelings swirling around and threatening to take hold. You feel your heart leap into your throat when his thumb softly caresses the side of your hand, but it is gone in an instant, and Guy retracts his hand and steps away from you.

“Go,” he said softly and you nodded your head, brushing past him as you ran out of the lab. 

Picking up the edges of your dress, a sense of urgency overwhelms you as the severity of the situation finally encompassed you.

Reaching Marian’s bed-chamber, you shove open the door and nearly trip on your own feet in your haste to reach her.

Marian is at her desk, befuddled by your sudden intrusion. “Is everything alright?”

You walk over and grab her hands, urging her to stand. “No,” you panted, your chest rising and falling with quick breaths. “You have to go,”

“Go?” Marian wondered. “Why? Robin hasn’t come for me yet—”

“Marian,” you interjected. “Marian… something… something has happened,”

An overwhelming sense of fear takes hold of her and she desperately clutches at you in response. “What…? Something’s happened? What do you mean?”

“The sheriff… the sheriff has made a deal with Lord Winchester,” you replied and swallowed a heavy lump in your throat. “He’s a traitor, he was planning to sign the pact this whole time and now he’s made a bargain with the sheriff and _you’re_ a part of the deal,”

“Pardon?”

“Winchester wants _you.”_

Tears prick at the corner of her eyes and she runs her fingers through her hair. “I can’t believe it… Winchester!” she spat. “What… what am I supposed to do?” 

“Look for Robin,” you said. “Or at the very least, someone from his gang. Did he tell you where they would be?”

“Yes…” she said, slowly regaining her composure. “Yes, he said they’d be waiting in the kitchen.”

“Then go, seek them out,”

“But… what about my father?”

“I’ll take care of him.”

“No, I couldn’t ask such a thing of you—”

“Marian, please!” you exclaimed. “Please… you are so close to freedom, don’t let them take it away from you again.”

It’s a difficult decision, that you know, for she would never willingly leave her father behind. With a heavy heart, she nodded her head and you brought her into another hug as you gingerly kissed her forehead.

“Good luck,” you said and patted her on the shoulder as you departed her room.

You’re about to turn on your heel and head back to the lab when the sight of the sheriff makes your blood run cold. 

Guards stood posted on either side of him and he gave you a sinister smile as he approached you.

Your heart was hammering in your chest, panic seizing you as he pointed towards the door.

“Paying lady Marian a visit?”

Your tongue swiped across your dry lips and you slowly nodded your head. “Yes, a visit,”

He sneered and clasped his hands behind his back as he stepped closer to you. “A visit…” he repeated and chuckled. “You wouldn’t have happened to mention anything about Lord Winchester during your visit?”

Your throat felt like it might close up, hardly being able to breathe due to the tautness of your nerves. “Lord Winchester?” you feigned. “No, not at all, the name fails to even bring someone to mind, my lord,”

He chuckled again, a malevolent sound that sent a ferocious shiver down your spine. 

“My dear, I know all too well the nefarious… _feelings_ that plague your kind,” he growled. “So, I shall forget about this small, little upset, as you’ve been so helpful to my _friends_ and I,” he grinned, his jeweled tooth sparkling under the wavering flames of the torches. 

You’d almost believed that you managed to escape punishment and convince him that you _hadn’t_ been trying to warn Marian about her impending doom.

In a lapse of judgment, you severely _underestimated_ him.

With a flick of his wrist, one of the guards broke into Marian’s room while the other took a tight hold of your arms, holding you back as Marian was shackled before your very eyes.

“Take the lovely lady Marian up to Lord Winchester, please,” the sheriff instructed and you started to thrash in protest, Marian calling out to you as she was whisked away.

“And you, missy,” he said in a low, threatening voice. “Will be locked in your room for the remainder of the evening. Consider yourself lucky, if you were of no use to me, I’d see you hanging from a post as compensation for losing Sussex.”

Terror grips the tight strings around your heart and it takes everything within you to not burst into a round of tears. The guard roughly shoved you around as he led you back to the room, pushing you inside and locking the door with a key.

Large globs of tears rained down your face and you cried out, kicking and punching at the door until you wore yourself out and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

You openly sobbed, tears dampening your tippet, soaking into the thick fur. How could the world be so cruel? Marian had suffered so much loss in her life and once again, here it was, being put on a parade for all to see no less. And here you were, powerless to do anything about it. 

A small part of you desperately clung to the hope that Robin somehow discovered Winchester was a traitor and was currently in the process of planning Marian’s grand escape. There was no way that he would let him take her without a fight. Not Robin… 

The minutes ticked into hours and you found yourself relentlessly pacing back and forth in your room, rushing towards the door at the faintest sound in a vain attempt to hear of any news.

All the while your thoughts couldn’t help but stray to all the men you had met today, their treacherous faces burning behind your eyes. You could picture them, the lot, huddling in some dark room and signing their precious pact.

Had the sheriff been successful in garnering his necessary support? Or had Robin been successful with his plans to stop them?

Wouldn’t the alarm bell have been triggered if that happened, though?

Almost as if on cue, the bell began ringing throughout the castle courtyard. Running over to one of your windows, you peered your head outside and made out plumes of thick black smoke, overhearing some guards down below yelling about a fire.

You growled in frustration, hardly seeing a thing from your vantage point. The sight brought a smirk to your face nonetheless, for there was only one person that’d think of starting a fire to make their escape.

Perhaps Robin managed to save Marian after all? All you could do was keep this desire tucked away, reassuring yourself with this comforting thought as the sun slowly began to descend on the horizon and the rosy hues of twilight encapsulated the land.

You’re sitting on your bed when there’s a knock at your door. 

Not knowing what to expect, you allow them to come in, and you can hardly believe your eyes.

“Marian!” you gasped and ran to her, bringing her into a bone-crushing hug.

She laughed, a joyous sound that made your heart swell. You were so overjoyed that you hadn’t even noticed Guy standing behind her, alongside a man you’d never seen before.

He was tall, with bright blue eyes and a fair face. He had short brown hair and a choppy beard, sporting a black outfit that nearly resembled Guy’s in style.

You turned back to Marian, in utter disbelief. “What… what are you doing here? I thought—”

“Guy and Allan rescued me,” she replied. “They intercepted Winchester and… _disposed_ of him,”

Your nose crinkled slightly in disgust but you could hardly feel sorry for the man, he had practically enslaved Marian after all.

“I’m so happy that you’re alright,” you said with a smile. 

“And am I glad that _you’re_ alright,” she replied. “I’ve been worried about you since our encounter with the sheriff,”

“The sheriff?” Guy wondered. 

“Yes,” Marian replied. “He was waiting outside my room and he discovered her shortly after she came to warn me,” her eyes flashed with remorse. “I thought for sure I’d gone and gotten you killed…”

You feel Guy’s stare on you and his face is contorted with worry and you laugh nervously in an attempt to cheer up the mood. 

“Nonsense, he’d… he’d never do such a thing,” you said half-heartedly, knowing full well that this was a lie.

Marian frowned but decided against pursuing the matter any further, not wishing to discuss something so private amongst the current company. “Well, if you don’t mind, I shall take my leave. I’m sure you’ve had an eventful day as well, my lady,”

She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze and stepped out into the hallway.

“Allan, make sure lady Marian arrives at her room safely,” Guy instructed.

With a nod of his head, Allan stepped to the side and quietly followed behind Marian down the ever-darkening halls of the castle.

“New recruit?” you asked in reference to Allan.

Guy smiled smugly and leaned against the wooden frame of your door. “You could say that. He used to be in Hood’s gang, can you believe that?”

Your eyes widened in shock, lips pursed into a tight frown as you digested this. “No, I cannot,” 

As much as you wished to learn more about this monumental update, there was something else lingering in the forefront of your mind.

“Is it true that you saved her?”

You tilt your head up to look at him in the eyes and he nods his head, some of his hair falling loose to perfectly frame his face.

“The sheriff is a proud man, he never would have let Winchester get away with one of his promised territories. He already wanted him gone. And Marian…” his voice trails off, his gaze briefly tracking across your face before flickering back up to stare into your eyes.

“You two are friends… _close_ friends. The realization that she was being taken against her will made me think of you… and I felt your misery, your melancholy. I understood how much it would have pained you to see such a fate befall her. That’s when I knew something had to be done,”

You’re taken aback. Guy had risked saving Marian… for you? 

The act was selfless, so much so that you had half the mind to ask him who he was and what he’d done with the _real_ Guy of Gisborne. But that’s just it, _this_ is Guy of Gisborne, the man Marian had seen in glimpses; a kind man, an honorable man, a true man.

Your expression lights up and your eyes sparkle in delight as you wrap your arms tightly around his waist and bring him into a hug. 

He freezes, his hands awkwardly raised on either side of you, his heart beating frantically when you rest your head on his chest.

Slowly, he lowers his arms and folds them across the small of your back. He gazes down at you fondly, a warm feeling trailing up from his belly until it envelopes his whole body, a bright blush erupting onto his pale cheeks.

“Thank you, Guy,” you said softly and glanced up at him. “From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.”

“Of… of course,” he replied breathlessly and forced himself to pull away from you, lest you notice how flustered he’d become.

You felt your own cheeks grow hot as he gave you a shy smile, bowing before you as he bid you goodnight. Waving him goodbye, you rest your back against the door as you giddily recall how _adorable_ he looked as he blushed.

Wait… what did you just say? Did you just call him _adorable?_

 _Oh no,_ you thought and cursed at the way your heart enthusiastically jumped for joy up as you thought of him. _Oh no! Oh noo…!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, it is nearly impossible for me to write a chapter that is less than 5,000 words :) but ohhh boy is this one a doozy!! there's a lot of development here, especially with you and guy <3 
> 
> i've been having so much fun incorporating the actual episodes into my story and i can't wait for you all to to read the next following chapters. who knows, maybe another one will be posted in the upcoming days? ;) i hope you enjoyed this one though. thank u for all your kind comments, it makes me so happy to see that you're enjoying my story so far <3 lots of love


	6. Gold

Over the coming days, there was a shift in you and Guy’s relationship. It was subtle at first, but as time went on, you began to notice it more and more. 

He appeared much more relaxed, even slightly carefree, and the two of you found yourselves naturally spending more time together. He would visit you while you worked, asking a few questions here or there that pertained to business, before seamlessly moving the conversation into much more casual territory. 

You discovered that Guy was surprisingly easy to talk to. He was fairly open-minded and best of all, he never seemed off-put by your intelligence. Some of the men you’d, unfortunately, met in the past were either offended at your knowledge or thought it to be a disgrace a woman should be so familiar with academia. 

But not Guy. He was genuinely interested in learning and it was nearly impossible to stop your heart from fluttering when he’d eagerly listen to you speak on a topic you were passionate about. There were quite a few times you caught yourself openly staring, finding it incredibly charming that he wished to know so much about the world. 

As the two of you grew closer, it was hardly a coincidence that the tight security around Marian slowly began to fizzle away. 

Guy claimed that with the new addition of Allan a Dale to the castle staff, there was no need for Marian to be constantly monitored by the sheriff’s guards and thus, he was quickly instated to keep watch over her instead.

Subsequently, you started to become more familiar with Allan as he’d hover behind Marian whenever she stopped by for a visit. But even then, he would stick around and chat for just a few moments before leaving the two of you alone to go about your business completely unsupervised. 

For a time, you thought that even someone like him could fall blind to the prejudices of women being nothing more than gossiping little harpies. However, you came to understand that Allan respected Marian, a feeling that he silently carried with him, despite her harboring nothing but disdain towards him. 

As such, you found it difficult to grasp a concrete understanding of Allan’s character. He sported himself with a smug sense of superiority because he was Guy’s right-hand man, and while he did his damndest to keep up this facade, you could see right through it. It was impossible not to notice the hesitation, the inner turmoil that bounced around in his head whenever he followed orders. There were moments where you almost felt sympathetic for him, understanding the need to keep up an impenetrable farce for the sake of your own self-preservation. But he chose this path and for that, he must live with the consequences of his sins.

Nevertheless, these moments you and Marian found yourselves together served to be incredibly helpful. With the worry of being overheard practically nonexistent, you were free to discuss any future plans in thwarting the Black Knights and it also allowed you the opportunity to exchange any new information you managed to gather.

This is how you were made aware of Robin’s latest plan to steal the Great Pact of Nottingham. It was a risky job, now more-so than ever, the two of you expressing your mutual concern after having seen Allan repeatedly inform both the sheriff and Guy on all of Robin’s common entry points. 

Their latest attempt had Robin and his gang attempting to break into the strong room where they quickly discovered that Marian’s diligent sleuthing efforts were wasted when it turned out to be empty. Seems the promise of money and power _can_ turn even the most loyal against their friends. 

However, Allan’s treachery did not stop there. 

One gray afternoon, Marian alerted you of Robin being in the castle and you discovered that he attempted to once again find the location of the pact only to have this plan duped by Allan. She was worried and frustrated that her father so easily dismissed her concerns, especially after she’d heard the sheriff discussing plans to have Allan lead them to Robin’s secret camp. 

This you would not stand for and together you quickly hatched a plan. You convinced Guy to allow Marian to come with you on the grounds of visiting the town’s physician for helpful feedback on your _hypothetical_ diagnosis of her father. 

You felt a twinge of guilt having to lie to Guy, but you knew he’d never let Marian leave the castle under your sole supervision without a reasonable excuse. When he finally left with Allan and his entourage of men, Marian swiped a nearby horse and told you to keep an eye on things while she informed Robin of Allan’s incoming tirade.

For a while you did just that, occasionally glancing out of the windows in the lab or occasionally strolling down the nearby halls to observe any activity in the castle. At some point, you picked up chatter from some nearby guards that the effort to find Hood’s secret camp had been astronomically unsuccessful and that brought a satisfied smile to your lips.

This sense of triumph was not long-lived. The alarm bell was abruptly sounded, the cause being Robin Hood and when the dust finally cleared, tragedy befell swiftly and mercilessly. 

Sir Edward was found dead, stabbed, alongside the corpse of a vicar who’d been working for the sheriff, an arrow protruding out of his chest.

Guy had been the one to inform you of Sir Edward’s passing and he comforted you as you wept, your fingers clutching tightly to him as your tears dampened the leather of his vest. 

He offered to take you to Marian, voicing that she would need a friend now more than ever and this thoughtfulness made your heart swell. In the back of your mind, however, you had an inkling that there’d be no one there to console. And so when you came upon the scene, a bedsheet dangling out of her shattered window, you forced yourself into a shocked standstill, tears pouring down your cheeks, all the while silently thanking the contrived forces that finally allowed Marian to be free with the one she loved. 

It was difficult having her leave so suddenly and the fact that you had not even been given the chance at a proper goodbye weighed heavily on your mind. But, you knew that this day would come, whether you wanted it to or not and Marian did not deserve to be locked away in this castle, puppeteered by the sheriff for the rest of her life. Although you mournfully wished that Edward had been able to escape with his daughter, you knew deep in your bones that he must have found peace in the fact that Robin was taking her to Sherwood, taking her _home._

Several weeks passed and it appeared as though the castle had forgotten about the woman it once held prisoner and the days began to regain a sense of normalcy. You would get up, go to work, perhaps share a conversation or two with Guy, and then head to bed.

Frankly, you were starting to go mad at how repetitive your life had become so today, you decided to go for a ride through the forest. You were running low on a few herbs that were used in concocting medicines and decided that today would best be spent foraging and crafting.

Grabbing one of your many satchels, you sling it over your shoulder and make quick haste down the castle halls until you reach the courtyard where you are brought your horse by a stablehand. 

Hopping onto your horse’s back, you pulled him into a trot and weaved your way through the bustling crowd to reach the large gate at the entrance of town. 

One of the guards stationed at the bridge glanced up and smiled when they recognized you. “Good afternoon, milady. Where are you off to?”

“Nowhere too exciting,” you replied with a friendly smile. “Off to look for some herbs that I need out in the forest.”

“The forest?” he said, a little surprised. “On your own? Surely we could send a group to do the work for you?”

“I will be fine,” you assured. “I’ll make sure to stick to the main roads and not wander too far from my horse. I doubt I’d be of much use to any outlaw I encounter, for I have no money on me.”

You noticed him frown under his helmet before reluctantly nodding his head. “Alright, but if you’re not back by sundown, I’m sending a team after ya!”

You chuckled. “Thank you for the concern, but I will be fine, I promise,” with a final wave you cross the bridge and click your horse into a leisurely trot, his hooves kicking up mild puffs of dust as you follow the dirt path that heads straight into the heart of Sherwood. 

It was a beautiful day, the sun shone high in the sky and a light breeze caused the leaves to sing out in a wonderful harmony as they danced on the wavering branches of the trees. The forest was peaceful and the sound of chirping songbirds and the occasional rustle of animals roaming in the undergrowth set your mind at ease. 

You took in a deep lungful of the crisp, clean autumn air and stretched your arms above your head. You had nearly forgotten how nice it was to be outside in the sun, away from the dark and drab of the castle, and were absolutely relishing in the moment.

After several minutes of traveling down the road, you pull your horse to a stop and leap off his back to begin searching. Carefully stepping around branches and shoving a few out of your way, you focused your attention on the ground, on the hunt for anything useful that may lay hidden amongst the foliage.

It took a while, but after some time searching, you happened upon a patch of feverfew. Their tiny yellow buds were soft to the touch and you pulled a small pocket-knife from your satchel, cutting a batch free and tying it together with a piece of twine. 

Perhaps there were more plants down this way? You whistled for your horse to follow your quick footsteps that kicked up leaves and twigs as you raced down the small incline.

“Surely there must be _something_ over here,” you said aloud and peered behind a few bushes. 

A frown spreads across your face when you find nothing of note and you grab a hold of your horse’s reins, pulling him towards the center of the road.

Just as you were about to take another step forward, you felt something snare around your ankle. When you looked down, you are seized with panic as a rope materializes out of nowhere, currently wrapped tightly around your leg.

In an instant, you were pulled up off the ground and tossed into the sky and into the waiting arms of a net. You heard your horse let out a loud, frightful cry and his hooves sounded off in the distance as he took off into the forest. 

You cursed. Not only were you trapped, but your one means of escape had bailed on you! You were in trouble. 

It was difficult to see through the thick netting but you needn’t wait long for the arrival of your captors. The sound of leaves crunching under the flurry of a dozen footsteps caused your heart to leap into your throat and you took a tight grip of your tiny dagger.

Whoever these people were… you weren’t going down without a fight.

“Good afternoon!” a voice called out to you. “My friends and I are going to bring you down. Now, if you would be so kind as to give us anything of value you may have, we would greatly appreciate it!”

“I _have_ nothing of value!” you exclaimed and grew irritated when you heard them laugh. “It’s true! I came here in search of herbs and that’s all!”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” someone else said. “You see this horse?”

“Yeah,” another voice joined in. “These are from Nottingham. See? The saddle work? Only one place carries equipment like that.”

How were you supposed to respond? That you _do_ work for the sheriff? Yes, because that would go absolutely _swimmingly._

“If we let you down, and what you say is true, we shall let you be on your way,” the first voice is back. “But lie, and we take everything.”

Even though they were holding you hostage, you were at least a little grateful that they had _some_ morals. 

You felt yourself slowly being lowered back to the ground and you flinched at the harsh daylight that emerges around you when you are pulled free. 

You are shocked when you find yourself surrounded by a group of people and even _more_ shocked when one of them calls out your name.

“Robin, wait!”

It’s Marian that emerges from the woodwork and you are absolutely flabbergasted.

She has a bright smile on her face and brings you into a tight hug. You burst out laughing and wrap your arms around her, bewildered but completely overwhelmed in jubilation. 

“Marian?” you gasped and pulled away to look at her. 

Her once pale, pristine face had slightly tanned in the sun and there was a small patch of dirt on the tip of her nose. Her long, curly brown hair fell below her shoulders and the ends were tangled up with leaf-litter and tiny twigs. She looked different but… she also looked happy.

“What on Earth are you doing here?” she asked, her green eyes twinkling in delight.

“I was not lying about what I said,” you opened up your satchel and pulled out the bundle of feverfew you had harvested earlier. “I came here on a little shopping trip. I was running low on medicinal herbs, so I thought I might find some in the forest.”

“See?” Marian said and turned to face the man at the vanguard of the group, one you recognized immediately. “I told you.”

Robin raised his hands up in surrender and sauntered over to the two of you. “I apologize, but you could have been wrong, Marian. It never hurts to double-check.”

She huffed and grabbed your hands and helped pull you up. “I feel awful that you were the one that got wrapped up in this,” she said and kicked the offending net away.

“Who’s idea was it to leave a trap like that?” you snapped.

“That would be mine,” Robin said with a self-satisfied smirk. “I offer my sincerest apologies. It’s usually wealthy nobles I wish to snare, not kind-hearted alchemists.”

You frowned slightly but then your lips flipped up into a grin and you were pulled into an eager embrace by Robin.

“It’s good to see you, my friend,” he endearingly patted you on the shoulder as you pulled away. 

“It’s good to see you too,” you replied and smiled fondly at them both. “You two look so content, you have no idea how happy that makes me,”

“Well, there were certainly times where it wasn’t panning out as smoothly as we might've liked,” Marian said and Robin chuckled as he shook his head from side-to-side.

“We definitely had a thing or two to learn about each other but, I’d like to think that it all worked out in the end,” he affectionately draped his arm across Marian’s shoulders and pulled her close to him as she stared up at him, smiling. 

“I wouldn’t trade it for the world,” 

“Alright, break it up! They’ll be no more funny business on my watch,” exclaimed a man with choppy blond hair.

“'Funny business’?” Robin repeated light-heartedly. “What are you talking about, Much?”

“Oh, you know what I mean! You two and your... your _euphemisms_ ,”

Marian chuckled quietly to herself and a few members of the gang joined in as well. 

“I think someone’s a little jealous,” one of the outlaws mused, a sly smile on her face.

Much huffed and defiantly folded his arms across his chest. “I am not!” 

“You totally are!” exclaimed a boy with long black hair. “Look at his face!”

“Oh! You’re blushing!” 

You turned to give Robin a bemused expression as the three clamored amongst themselves, muttering, “So _these_ are your rag-tag group of outlaws?”

“That one there, is Will Scarlett,” he pointed at the younger boy with jet black hair. “Finest carpenter in all of England. And that is Djaq,” 

“I never knew you had a _woman_ in your gang,” 

“You remind me a little of her,” Robin said and chuckled at your expression. “She is also a woman of science,” he clarified.

Your eyes widened in delight and you glanced over at Djaq. “Really?”

“Mhmm,” Robin hummed and finally turned your attention to the big man with the stick that silently stood beside an old oak tree. “And that is Little John,”

“‘Little’? There’s nothing _little_ about him,”

“That’s the fun in it,” he laughed and then blew a sharp whistle between his teeth, the three ceasing their teasing immediately.

“Come on, eh? We’ve got _company!”_

“Yeah, company that works for the _sheriff,”_

Both Robin and Marian simultaneously whip their heads over to glare at Much and he stares back at them with wide eyes, pointing exasperatedly in your direction as he blubbered, “Well, she _does!”_

“For once, I say Much has a point,” Little John says, breaking his silence. 

At this, Robin sighs and lowers his voice a bit as he addresses his friend. “John, out of everyone here, you should know how sound Marian’s judgment is,”

“I know,” Little John replied and he seemed almost frustrated with himself. “But, Robin, it’s the _sheriff.”_

“I lived in the castle,” Marian interjected. “I worked with Guy, I obeyed the sheriff and yet you do not distrust me,”

“But,” Much sputtered. “But, that’s... Marian, that’s different!” 

“She’s pledged herself to the cause!” she said firmly. “She is willing to put herself at risk to help us, the very same ones that I took when I was helping you during my time locked away,”

“But how can you be sure that she won’t betray us?” Little John snapped. “We all thought we knew the meaning of loyalty, of trust, and yet we _still_ got stabbed in the back,”

The others nodded their heads in agreement and Marian took a step forward, determined to change their minds before you cut her off with a firm grip on her arm.

“If I may,” you said cautiously. “I’d be willing to tell you about myself if that would help clear things up,”

Little John gazed at you for a moment, the lines on his face crinkling with his big bushy eyebrows. He glanced over at the others, who merely shrugged their shoulders in response and he gave you a silent nod to continue.

You stepped away from Marian and Robin and confidently cleared your throat as you introduced yourself. 

“I am a woman of science and learning,” you went on to explain. “What initially began as an attempt to tame my willfulness, evolved into a moment that truly changed my life. I was made aware of all this untapped knowledge that’d been purposefully barred from me because of who I am,” you took a deep, calming breath and then continued.

“While I was away studying, I met some fellow academics that were whispering about a concept they’d heard of in the east: alchemy. I was instantly intrigued and found myself in an apprenticeship shortly thereafter. It was upon hearing of this newfound passion that my parents decided it was time I return back to England,”

“They brought you back... so that you could work for the sheriff?” Much’s voice tapers off from confusion and turns into genuine pity and you nod your head at his conclusion. 

“Yes. My parents have always been the sort to... bend their morals a bit to ensure that they are always in the good graces of whoever happens to be in power,” 

“The typical noble, then?” Will joked and they snickered quietly to themselves as you laughed dejectedly.

“Right... they brought me here under the pretense of a feast but once the sheriff made my acquaintance, they disappeared before I had any clue of what was going on,”

A flash of despair crosses over your face as you recall that day but you push it down, blinking out of your reverie to offer them a sad smile. 

“When I first arrived in Nottingham, I was excited at the prospect, finally, I had my own lab! I could do my own independent research!” once again your smile faded and you sighed, your shoulders sagging slightly from exhaustion.

“But all that glitters is not gold, and I came to find that all the hard work I’d poured into those projects, was for naught. They were merely pieces, important pawns that were to be used in Vasey's plan to throw this country into civil war. So, that’s when I decided to help you any way that I could, to try my hand at standing up against the tyrannical and saving England,” there was a certain level of tenacity in your gaze that catches a few of them off-guard, unprepared for you to already have such strong convictions. 

The gang watched you carefully, assessing your words and trying to determine if this was all an act, a farce that had even fooled their perceptive Lady Marian. However, it did not take long to come to an understanding that you’d clearly been placed into a position that offered you little to no control. Anyone with half a mind could see that you were merely following through with orders that’d surely lead to your demise if you ever thought of disobeying. 

Little John was the first to approach you and awkwardly cleared his throat, the large man’s sudden demure disposition catching you off guard. “Sorry,” he said gruffly. “I hope you don’t take it too personally. We can never be too careful,”

“That’s completely understandable,” you replied and offered him a shy smile. “I suppose one can never be _too_ suspicious when it comes to folks working for the sheriff.”

“See?” Robin exclaimed. “I told you, you can trust her.”

“I knew she was fine,” Much said with a fervent nod of his head. “I knew it!”

“You did not!” Will scoffed and turned to look at him with a sneer. “Who was it that said not five minutes ago that we should be wary because she works for the sheriff?”

Much opened his mouth to say something but then quickly closed it as a witty comeback failed to come to him. Instead, he simply folded his arms to his chest and continued to adamantly claim that he knew you were innocent all along.

You noticed Djaq step away from Will and Much, hardly interested in the antics those two would get into and formally introduced herself.

“It’s so wonderful to meet another woman interested in the realms of science,” she said and you excitedly nodded your head.

“Yes! Robin mentioned you had your fair share of knowledge in the medical field,”

“My father was a physician,” she replied. “I learned everything from him. You mentioned that you were sent away? Where did you go?”

“Bologna.”

“Bologna?” Much exclaimed. “Where’s that?”

“Italy,”

“Italy?” Will sounded genuinely intrigued and rushed over to stand beside Djaq. “Did you ever go to Rome? Visit the Holy City? I've heard the buildings there are absolutely _beautiful_ ,”

“No,” you said with a wave of your hand. “I wasn’t permitted to travel much, I was there to be reformed, remember—I was _not_ on vacation,” you teased. 

“I think the closest I’ve been to Italy is when we were stationed in Cyprus,” Much said and sauntered over to the rest of the group. 

“Cyprus?” you wondered 

“This was during the Crusades,” Robin explained. “Much here accompanied me while we served in the King’s private guard,”

“That must have been awful, I cannot even imagine the horrors you must have seen there.”

“It _was_ horrible,” Much said with a fervent nodding of his head. “Absolutely horrible…”

The air grew tense around you for a moment but before anyone could become ensnared by torturous memories of the past, Much reached down and grabbed your bag which was slightly dusty and covered in leaves from your tumble. 

“You went through all this trouble for some weeds?” he asked and held up the buds to his nose to take a quick sniff.

“They’re not weeds!” you chastised. “It’s feverfew and they make an exceptional brew that helps with headaches and other pains.”

“You are a trained physician as well?” Djaq asked.

“Medicine and alchemy go hand-in-hand; one can never hope to understand the intricacies of creation if one does not first learn to understand the intricacies of the human body,” you said with a smile.

“The sheriff is a _fool_ for having underestimated someone like you,” Djaq gave you a sincere smile and you felt your cheeks burn slightly at the compliment, muttering your quiet thanks in return.

“Does he know that you’re out parading in the forest today?” Robin said with a cocky grin. 

“No,” you said matter-of-factly. “I came here on my own fruition.”

“An unwise decision, milady,” he said. “One must be careful when walking around these woods.”

“Why’s that?”

“Haven’t you heard? Outlaws,” he said dramatically and the rest of the gang burst out laughing while you and Marian seemed to simultaneously roll your eyes. 

“Alright that’s enough,” Marian said and handed back your satchel as she asked Will to go fetch your startled horse, who lay a few meters away in some bushes. 

“Don’t be such a spoil-sport, Marian,” Robin said and kissed her on the cheek. “We’re all having fun here.”

“As much as I’m sure she’d enjoy the lot of you acting like a bunch of fools,” she said snidely. “I’m sure she’d appreciate getting back to her work.”

At the reminder of having to return back to the castle, a frown flickered across your face, your cheery disposition instantly vanishing at the prospect of having to leave them so soon. 

Surprisingly, Robin seemed to pick up on the sudden shift in your mood, a drawn-out, “Oooor,” causing your eyebrows to perk up.

“She could come with us,”

“Is that wise?” Little John asked softly. “We have scheduled drop-offs today, Robin, what if we put the families at risk bringing her?”

“Trust me, John, it’ll be fine. Plus, it’ll allow her to see first-hand just what we do!”

That seemed to rile them up and helped to further cinch their confidence in both you and Robin’s word. As they excitedly ran up a nearby hill, you called Robin over to ask him the question that had been burning in your mind since his suggestion.

“What did you mean when you offered to come with you? Come with you _where,_ exactly?”

“I suppose I _could_ tell you,” he said and chuckled when he noticed Marian roll her eyes. “But I think it’d be better if I just showed you,”

You glanced over at Marian, clearly confused and clearly begging for her to explain Robin’s cryptic statement but he quickly shushed her by placing his index finger on her lips.

“I know you hate surprises Marian, but let’s give the girl something to look forward to, eh?”

She sighed, only slightly irritated before she finally relinquished a smile. “Oh, alright,” she said and took a hold of your hand as she ushered you forward to your horse.

“How come she gets to ride a horse?” Much pouted, emerging from beyond the hill, a satchel full of lord knows slung over his shoulder. 

“Well, she can’t leave it here now can she?” Robin teased. “The last thing we need is a search party sending dogs and men our way because they found their alchemist’s horse with no alchemist,”

After commandeering his rowdy group, Robin announced that their mission was back on and they began to lead you through the forest. 

It came as no surprise that they favored the pathways made naturally by animals and the weather, opting to travel silently through the underbrush to avoid any unwanted attention from the main roads.

The conversation flowed amicably between all of you and it allowed you a chance to get some valuable insight into the famous band of outlaws. 

Robin let you in on how he and Much were lifelong friends, the man once serving as one of Robin’s personal servants while he was still Lord of Locksley. To be honest, you had always been a little curious as to what prompted him to abandon a life of luxury and become an outlaw, but he said he never saw it that way.

Growing up, he never viewed the people he presided over as anything less than family and so when he returned home, mind and body battered from war, he was sickened to see that the very same depravity poisoning the pursuits of the Crusades had followed him back here to England.

His father had always told him that you should never stand by and let something terrible happen because you were too scared to do the right thing, and when it came down to it, he’d take being an affront to the very law that he once defended with his life to a spineless noble any day. 

It was a virtuous cause, you had to admit. Here they were, this group of five, fighting tooth and nail to ensure that the less fortunate, the ones often left to the wayside, had a slim chance at a better life. Their conviction was strong and their morals were true, and you were honored that they’d allow _you_ the chance to take part.

The others weren’t nearly as open about themselves as Robin was, but, you didn’t mind. Will mentioned offhandedly that he had a younger brother in Scarborough, Luke, who he was hoping to one day see again when this was all over. Djaq and Little John said little about their family, however, Djaq was more than bursting at the seams to reveal that _she_ had once been the sheriff’s alchemist— albeit, for less than a day.

You were stunned into a shocked stupor until a few of Vasey’s off-hand comments finally clicked into your brain. The pretty boy that wasn’t a pretty boy at all… what were the odds. 

The floodgates had been opened at that point and you spent the remainder of the trip discussing alchemy with Djaq. She had given herself far too little credit, for her medicinal knowledge rivaled that of some of your professors!

When the trees slowly started to thin out around you and the waning afternoon sun erupted from behind the dense canopy, a small village emerged before you. The gang picked up their pace as they followed a dusty road into the center of the village, one that you failed to recognize but could only assume was a ways north from Nottingham.

Sliding off the back of your horse, you gingerly tied his reins on the nearby trunk of a tree. Giving him a thankful scratch below his mane, he whinnied softly and arched his neck as he bent down and began nibbling on the dandelion plants that invaded the prairie.

You chased after Marian, who had thankfully stayed behind to wait for you, and stuck beside her quick gait.

A handful of villagers had made their way out of their homes and were gratefully accepting the offerings that the gang were handing out. It ranged from loaves of bread to large pieces of dried meat, to small sacks of coins and clean cloth for clothes.

Mothers with arms full of children had tears brimming in their eyes, overjoyed at their selfless generosity. Elderly folks’ wrinkled faces crinkled with joy, their toothy smiles, endearing pats, and pinches of the cheek making even tough old Little John let out a hearty laugh. Children gaped in awe at the sight of the famous Robin Hood and his outlaws, squealing in delight when their parents swept them off their feet with the surprise of food and the promise of a future sweet treat thanks to the gang’s charitable donations.

The sight brought a broad smile on your face, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Marian.

“We try and do this every day,” she said and reached into the pocket of her dress to procure a small sack of money, which she handed to a nearby farmhand. “We visit the villages in and around Nottingham, providing them with some money and food. It’s not much, but we know that even a little bit like this goes a long way.”

“I think it’s wonderful,” you commended. “Look how happy they are,”

Her eyes strayed towards Robin who was currently talking with a group of men who looked to be a butcher, a blacksmith, and a few farmers. He had a beaming smile on his face, his stormy blue eyes shining splendidly in the waning light of the sun, filled with nothing but the utmost satisfaction and glee.

“He’s always got to have it,” she mused, although there was no animosity in her voice. “Glory,” she finished and you chuckled as you shook your head in derision. 

That sounded an awful lot like someone _else_ you knew.

“But,” she added with a click of her tongue. “I suppose I prefer this much more than him running off to fight in a war,”

You hummed softly in agreement, silently admiring the way your friend’s lips quirked up into an even bigger smile as Robin’s joyous laughter echoed throughout the village. The way she looked at him… it was almost _too_ obvious.

“Have you told him yet?”

Your question caught her off guard and she whipped her head over to face you. Her eyebrows furrowed for a split second before she started to laugh. “What? Told him what?”

Your eyes sparkled with just a hint of teasing and you leaned forward on the heels of your feet to whisper, “I’m sure he already knows, but I’m sure he’s the kind of man that would _greatly_ appreciate hearing it,”

For a moment, Marian almost attempted to keep up this facade of playing coy with you, but she grasped that it was already a lost cause. Unfortunately, you knew her too well. A bright blush spread up her neck and dusted her cheeks and she cleared her throat in an attempt to calm her fluttering heart. 

Robin seemed to finally notice the two of you and he waved you over with a beckon of his hand. She accepted the invitation with no hesitation and you had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from laughing too hard at how quickly she darted away from you. No matter how long it had been since you’d seen one another, you’d never give up the chance to tease your friend over how ridiculously enamored she was with him. 

Had it not been for the sun slowly dipping beyond the horizon, you could have easily found yourself in the village for hours on end. However, you knew sooner or later that you’d have to return back to your monotonous job and head back to the castle. The last thing you wanted was for Robin’s search party idea to become a reality. 

As you bid farewell to the villagers and the rest of the gang, Robin graciously offered to take you back to the outskirts of the forest and lead you to the main road. Walking hand-in-hand with Marian, the trek back was peaceful, with Robin occasionally asking you a few questions about your work and on the comings and goings of the castle.

You knew better than to reveal everything to him, after all, you still had _yourself_ to worry about at the end of the day, but, you may or may not have let slip the schedules of a few notable guards that you’d come to memorize during your stay. 

When you finally reached the entrance of the forest, you practically leaped off your horse in order to embrace Marian in a tight hug. 

“It was so wonderful to see you,” she said, her voice muffled in your hair. “I wish you could join us, here in the forest. I’m sure you’d make a great addition to the team.”

You chuckled and pulled away to give her a lopsided smile. “I would if I could, but alas, this is my last chance to turn my life around— at least, according to my parents. I’d rather spend the rest of my life in Nottingham, having the freedom to do my research, than be sent a nunnery to reform my willful behavior.”

“Heaven forbid,” she said and the two of you laughed. “Well, I can only hope that we see each other again soon.”

“Me too,” 

Her strong, calloused hands gave your arm one last tight squeeze before you hauled yourself back up onto your horse. 

“You take care of her now, you hear?” you pointedly stared at Robin and he raised his hands up in surrender.

“I’ll try my best,” he said with a smile. “But you know how Marian is; more often than not, _she’s_ the one that needs reeling it,” he let out a bout of laughter when she playfully punched him in the arm in response. 

“I’d offer up the same advice to you,” he said earnestly. “Speaking of,” he opened up his satchel that had once been full of gifts and goodies for the less fortunate and pulled out an assortment of herbs and plants.

You were shocked and albeit a little confused when he handed them to you. 

“What are these for?”

“I know the castle guards are dense, but I doubt that the sheriff will be so easily persuaded if you returned with only a single bundle of herbs as your bounty after being gone all afternoon.”

At this, your cheeks burned out of embarrassment. You’d completely neglected that that had been the whole reason you’d come out here. How could you be so stupid?

“Don’t worry about it,” Robin said, snapping you out of your reverie. “You did not intend to spend the day with us, now you know to be better prepared in defending your alibi next time,”

You gave him a smile and replied, “Next time? There’s going to be a next time?” 

“Of course!” he said enthusiastically before he crept forward and only vaguely attempted to whisper, “I’m sure Marian would have my head if there wasn’t,”

He yelped as Marian pinched his backside and she gave you one last wave as your laughter settled over them; they were quite the pair.

Squeezing your horse around his barrel, he kicked off into a run as you hurried up the road in an attempt to make it back as quickly as possible. The moon had already begun its ascent into the sky, so you were pushing your luck as is. 

You were about halfway to the entrance of Nottingham before a trio of black horses emerging from the gates stopped you in your tracks. You recognized the person at the vanguard immediately and your mood soured.

Allan.

“About bloody time you show up,” he snapped and maneuvered his steed so that he was riding beside you. “Guy about put my head on a spike earlier when I couldn’t find you,”

“Why were you looking for me?” you replied haughtily. 

“I’m not being funny, but you see the color of the sky, yeah?” he asked and for good measure, gestured up at the heavens. “You know you need to be back by sundown and do you see a sun in the sky? Now I’m no astronomer or nothin’ but that looks like the _moon_ to me,”

If it weren’t for his accusatory tone you would have laughed at his rather comedic statement, but instead, you just sighed. 

“Alright, yes, I apologize. It seems time got away from me. I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble,” you cocked your head to the side to get a good look at him and his blue eyes darted away from you to focus straight ahead. 

“Ah, it’s all good,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug. “Giz was just worried about you, that’s all. Especially since you didn’t tell anyone where you’d be headin’,”

“But I did,” you interjected and pulled your horse to a stop as the two of you entered the castle courtyard. “The man stationed at the gate, I told him I was going into the forest to collect some herbs.”

Allan frowned as he effortlessly slid off his horse, his arms folded across his leather-clad chest. Something seemed to dawn on him and he shook his head in disbelief. “Useless…” he muttered to himself before he glanced back up at you. “Shouldn’t be surprised that none of these fools think. When I sent a squad around town to ask about ya, guess it slipped their minds that the bloke at the gate during our search _wasn’t_ the same one you spoke to when you left,” he handed his horse’s reins to the stablehand and the two of you walked up the stone stairs and into the castle.

“Ah, they must have changed shifts,” you nodded in understanding. 

“Exactly,” he said. “Well, uh, guess I’ll go and tell Giz that you’re alright. Did you find what you were looking for? Plenty of herbs n’ stuff?”

“Oh yes, more than enough,” you shifted your satchel on your shoulder and gave Allan a sly smile. “Does Guy know that you call him _Giz?”_

Allan chuckled and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Nah, you know how he is with titles n’ stuff. It’s just a nickname I came up with. I say it around the boys but,” his tongue swiped across his bottom lip and he swallowed a lump in his throat. “If you could keep that between you and me—”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Allan,” you giggled and he gave you a smile.

“I appreciate it,” he replied and departed from you with one final stare, presumably heading off in search of Guy. 

In the meantime, you decided to head up to the lab and drop off all the herbs Robin had gifted you. Once you made it to the large iron door, you tugged it open and went around lighting a few candles to help brighten up the room. It was only then that you were finally given a chance to look at everything Robin had thrown your way and you made an approving face as you gently laid out all of the separate bundles. There was some good stuff in here… where did he get it? From one of the older women in the village? From one of the farmers? You had to ask him the next time you saw him, these were some quality trimmings.

Once you had carefully hung them up to dry, you reached for one of the ledgers that you kept for documenting your inventory. You were in the process of identifying one of the more unfamiliar roots when you picked up the sound of someone arriving at the front door.

You glanced over at the open entrance and saw Guy, his stare directly on you. His usual leather jacket was currently unclasped, revealing a thin, black cotton shirt underneath and his hands were bare, his gloves sticking out of his pocket. 

Were your eyes playing tricks on you or was that relief plastered on his face?

“You’re back,” he finally said.

“Yes, I’m back,” you echoed and smiled briefly in greeting before you turned your attention back to your ledger.

The spurs on his boots clacked loudly against the stone floor as he approached you, however, you paid him no mind. 

“Where were you?”

Your eyebrow rose up, wondering why he would ask such a thing if Allan had gone in search of him to announce your arrival.

“Out,” you replied briskly. Placing your ledger off to the side, you begin preparing to make a tonic until you realized just how _close_ Guy was standing next to you.

He’s almost hovering over you, both his eyes and face churning with a myriad of emotions and you take a step back to distance yourself from him. 

“Guy, I’m rather busy so if you wish to lecture me, can we save it till tomorrow—?”

You’re stopped dead in your tracks when his hand reached out to wrap around your wrist and you’re shocked. You tug on your arm in a feeble attempt to break free, but his grip is strong and all you can do is narrow your eyes at him in derision.

“What’s gotten into you?” 

He looks torn, as though he’s struggling to come up with the proper words. After a few moments, you feel the pressure on your wrist relax and his hand moves to delicately hold yours in his grasp. 

Your mouth parts open in a mixture of confusion and bewilderment, unsure of what to make of his strange behavior

Anxiety washed over him like the tepid breeze that blew in from the cool, night air, and you were honestly at a loss for words. 

“You were gone for so long…” his voice is so quiet that you nearly fail to hear him. “And no one knew where you were… I thought— I thought perhaps you’d gotten lost, ambushed, or…” his gaze is downcast as his sentence tapers off and you feel your heart cinch in your chest at how utterly _devastated_ he looked.

You gently took hold of his other hand and curled the ends of your fingers so that you could delicately trace your thumbs across his knuckles. He took a sharp intake of breath and his eyes flicker back up to look into yours, nearly losing himself in their sea of warm glowing compassion.

“Guy,” you said steadily, eyebrows furrowing together remorsefully. “I apologize, I never intended to make you worry. I… I should have been more conscientious and told you or Allan where I was headed,” you took a brazen step forward and gingerly cupped the side of his face.

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed and his own hand reached up to envelop yours as he let out a long sigh. 

“It won’t happen again,” you reassured him. “Forgive me?”

When his bright blue eyes find yours again, a sharp gasp gets lodged in your throat. You had seen that look… the very same one you’d teased your _dear friend_ over earlier… 

He gently grasped your hand and placed a featherlight kiss on it, your heart hammering so loudly in your ears you feared Guy might be able to hear it. 

A smile finally breaks out onto his face and your skin burns where he rests his hands on your shoulders. “Promise?”

You felt some tension relieve itself from your body when you picked up on his light, almost imperceptible playful tone, and your expression melts into a warm smile. 

“I promise.”

His touch slowly fades away as he pulls back and makes his way back to the door. Without thinking, you feel your feet inch their way forward as if somehow compelled to follow after him, but you’re pulled to a halt when he turns back around and gives you a grin that makes your stomach flip into summersaults.

“Don’t stay up too late,” 

You shook your head. “I won’t,”

With that, he bid you goodnight and closed the door behind him with a quiet _thud._

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding and leaned against one of the counters for support. A sudden haze fell over you, one you'd long since forgotten about within the twisting depths of your mind. You hadn’t felt this sense of yearning since you were a young girl and yet you knew immediately what it was.

You had fallen for Sir Guy of Gisborne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo this chapter was probably one of the most fun to write because you finally meet the gang!! i loved writing them, the interactions just come so naturally!! guy wasn't too present in this chapter, but i hope that those last few paragraphs make up for it <3 
> 
> i hope that you enjoyed this chapter, i can't wait to share the following few with u guys. tysm for the support, lots of love <3


	7. Mercury

The celebration held in honor of Guy’s birthday left much to be desired. 

You had initially been excited, having spent the night before shooing him away from the lab as you tried to inconspicuously work on his present. 

You decided on a pendant with an eye-catching gemstone inlaid in the middle of a lovely silver bezel. You’d specifically chosen this gem for its striking black and golden stripes that mimicked the Gisborne family colors. An engraving of a Griffon, the main symbol in his house crest, you’d delicately etched onto the surface of the stone, and when it was finished, you tucked it away inside a velvet pouch, keeping it hidden till the day of the party. 

When the time finally came, you were whisked away to Locksley Manor, begrudgingly having to endure said trip alongside the company of the sheriff.

In fact, he seemed to relish in your apparent discomfort, remarking snidely about your dress or commenting shrewdly on how much time you and Guy'd been spending together lately. 

You had to fight every urge within you not to grimace from disgust, _hardly_ needing to hear what it is the sheriff thought of your interpersonal relationships. 

Arriving in Locksley, you’re shocked by how many coaches were scattered about the muddy pasture. Horses absentmindedly grazed at the sodden grass around them as they awaited their master's return and a few guards, stationed nearby, chatted quietly amongst themselves as they stood posted outside the front door. 

A thought came to you, one that made a frown spread across your face; were these friends of Guy’s or were these friends of _the sheriff?_

What you’d anticipated as a fun day of festivities and relaxation quickly became squandered as the dreary reality of having to entertain a room of pompous nobles was all but thrust upon you. The conversation drew thin, all of them discussing the state of their lands or blabbering your ear off of their admiration towards the sheriff. You could feel the lines of your face ache and twitch, sore at how often you’d had to hold a fake smile or burst into forced laughter. 

You’d only caught glimpses of Guy, standing at the foot of a long table that was covered in an assortment of dishes and bottles of wine. All that you wished was to speak with him, even if only for a moment, but the sheriff seemed intent on having you meet every stocky little man he’d need come tax season. 

It was not till the fool arrived, a skinny man whose pale face was decorated in extravagant makeup, did the sheriff finally make way to the head of the table, and you were at last given a chance to see Guy. 

You did not miss the way that his expression lit up as he caught sight of you, and you gave him a lovely smile as you curtseyed to greet him. 

He offered you the seat to his right, which you graciously accepting, relieved that you'd finally be rid of Vasey's horrid presence. 

The jester turned out to be rather charming, having a quick wit about him that you thought was delightful, even _if_ his jokes were targeted towards one Richard the Lionheart. 

All those around you laughed, however, you had a mild suspicion that they were _all_ exuding a facade of their own, enraptured in the lyrical semantics that only vaguely teetered on the edge of treachery to appease a _certain_ manin the room. Which is why it came as a great surprise when the fool switched his tune, going so far as to compare Prince John to a dormouse.

The room was deathly silent, a tension filling the air, one so thick you almost swore you could cut through it with a knife. A few of the men spared nervous glances in Vasey’s direction, whose face had turned hard as stone, a vicious fire burning behind his beady eyes. 

You took a heady sip of wine as the fool attempted to make his case and you ended up snorting and nearly choking on your drink when he announced that someone would bare their buttocks to the sheriff in a heat of sleuth slaying. 

Of course, he was arrested, the sheriff boldly announcing that he’d be flogged in the morning at the behest of discovering what he meant by _Lardner’s Ring_. 

You were soon to have your answer. 

Allan returned with two of Guy’s men, one wounded and one dead with an _arrow_ sticking out of his chest.

Sweat poured down Allan's face, his tongue swiping out to wet his dry lips as he recounted what happened to the sheriff and Guy. They were after a messenger, it seems, one that came bearing a letter from the king, but they had to quickly fall back, having been ambushed by Robin Hood. 

It was when Allan mentioned he’d heard something about Lardner’s ring, that you surmised the festivities were over and whatever this _Lardner_ was took precedent. This reeked of ulterior motives but with the sheriff now sniffing around, there was little that you could do in terms of your own investigations. 

You could only hope that Robin had managed to intercept the message in time. 

The remainder of the day was spent in the castle and as night slowly fell upon the rich, red sunset, you overheard a few of the whispers that seeped through the halls.

Lardner, it turns out, was nothing more than a bird, a carrier-pigeon to be precise, whose sole mission was to relay messages from halfway across the world. 

For a moment, you were filled with hope. Was this the chance you’d all been waiting for? If Robin had managed to intercept the location of Lardner, you’d have an immediate connection to the king, one you could use in warning him of the sheriff’s plans. 

But all too suddenly that sense of hope shifted to one of dread. 

The sheriff finally returned from his escapades in the woods, a conniving grin on his face, and your stomach turned at the sight of him cooing at a falcon that sat perched on his arm, the bird ruffling its feathers as he gently stroked its sleek wings.

Much as it pained you to admit, it was an incredibly smart play on his part to use a bird of prey’s natural instincts in catching an animal that was heralded as Saladin’s fastest pigeon. His gleeful mood filled you with dread, suspecting that the gang had tragically been outplayed this time round. 

You were in such low spirits from this revelation that you decided to call it early and were in the process of heading to your bed chambers when you noticed Guy briskly walking in your direction. 

He beamed at you and you could only manage a half-hearted smile in response, your gaze weary as he caught up to you. 

“Where are you off to?” he wondered. “I thought that you’d surely be in the lab at this hour,”

“Oh…” you said softly and absentmindedly rubbed your arm. “I was feeling a little tired, so…”

“Oh,” he echoed, finding it hard to mask the disappointment on his face. 

One of your eyebrows quirked up, curious. “Is… there something the matter?”

“No… no,” he said quickly. “Forget it, I’m sorry for disturbing you—”

“Guy,” you called out and placed a firm yet gentle hold on his wrist. “What’s the matter? I can tell something is on your mind,”

His eyes widened a bit in surprise and for a moment, he was unsure of how to respond. He fidgeted where he stood, carefully removing your hold on him to anxiously wring his gloved hands together.

“Well, as you know,” he began, his voice thick with nerves before he cleared his throat. “My... my party had to be cut short due to… _unforeseen_ circumstances,” he noticed your eyes flash dangerously for a bit and hastily continued with his proposition before you could pester him anymore on the subject.

“And I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me back to Locksley. It would only be us and a few others, think of it as a more intimate celebration to help kick things back off.”

Of all the things you could have expected this… was _definitely_ not one of them. Was he inviting you to his home? At this hour? 

You chuckled and felt heat rise up into your cheeks as you bashfully twirled a stray piece of hair around your finger. “Are… are you sure? I mean, would I even be allowed to leave?” 

“Of course,” he said firmly. “So long as you stick beside me, I’m sure the sheriff will have no issue with it,”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you thought over the proposition. It wouldn’t hurt to have a few drinks and this _would_ give you the opportunity to present him with his gift. 

Guy awaited your answer with bated breath and when you looked up at him, a shy smile on your face and your eyes shimmering under the warm light of the torches, he felt his heart leap into his throat. 

“Alright then,” you replied and offered him your hand. “Shall we be off?” 

❈

The men of Locksley sure knew how to party. 

Guy’s guest list, much to your delight, was much more minimal and much more intimate than the sheriff’s. The great hall of Locksley was bustling with a dozen or so of Guy’s personal guards, not to mention Allan. You certainly preferred _this_ atmosphere to the stuffy platitudes you'd suffered only earlier that day.

Guy’s men were a bit rowdier than you expected, especially when Allan broke out the gambling games. However, it was nearly impossible not to join in on the fun. 

Allan was aptly skilled at a certain trick involving three tin cups that he would quickly shuffle around, hiding a few coins under one that, should you succeed and choose correctly, you’d be allowed to keep your prize. Even you had to admit that you had trouble following his movements, so you weren’t exactly surprised that none of Guy’s men were able to either, considering how much mead and liquor flowed between them.

You’d never particularly cared much for alcohol till you lived in Italy, favoring the rich wines that were prevalent in the country over any meads or harsh liquors. Thankfully, Guy had a reserve of wine that he broke out throughout the night and you were able to leisurely sip on a bottle… or two.

Allan made a few jabs at you drinking something so _dainty_ and whether it was the intoxicating fun of the night or perhaps the handful of drinks already swimming in your system, you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. Gathering all the willing gents around you, you explained a game you’d learned during your time at the university. 

Believe it or not, regardless of the fact that they were funded by the church, the medieval schools in Europe were well known for their escapades in human debauchery. Tales of wild parties were aplenty in Bologna and you would be remiss to say that you hadn’t participated in a few yourself; leave a couple of hundred young adults completely unsupervised and it was _bound_ to happen.

Everyone was immediately hooked on the concept and you spent a few hours playing with Allan and a couple of the guards, learning a few things you were more than certain they’d come to regret saying once the sun came up.

Frankly, you were a bit disappointed that Guy opted not to join in, curious as to what his approach would be in comparison to his rambunctious, talkative staff. However, you needn’t wait long for your wish to come true. 

“Oi, Guy,” Allan exclaimed, his smile wide and his eyes glazed over. “Come _over_ and join us, eh? You can’t avoid us forever!” 

Guy brushed him off with a stern look, one that had you attempting to reel Allan back in out of your own embarrassment, but he would not be so easily dissuaded. 

It was a miracle that he could even stand and he confidently took the few steps to reach Guy as you openly laughed at his utter ridiculousness.

Allan clumsily cocked his head back at the sound of your laughter and flashed you a knowing smirk. He draped one of his arms across Guy’s shoulders, who in turn could only stand there and give Allan an annoyed glare that would probably have sent most men running with their tail between their legs.

But Allan was bold… and _unbelievably_ drunk.

“Awww come on,” he slurred and Guy grimaced at the rancid smell of Allan’s breath. “It’s your _birthday!_ Don’t be such a stick in the mud! Have some fun!”

“Allan, you have about five seconds to get your arm off of me or you’ll be nursing that hangover of yours in the stables,”

 _“Psshhhh…”_ Allan nonchalantly waved off his threat, a couple of nearby soldiers laughing amongst themselves at the sight of their master getting outplayed by his inebriated errand boy. 

He proceeded to slump even further on Guy, who had half a mind to beat him into a pulp for his behavior, until he whispered, “She’s been wonderin’ why you haven’t joined in. Can’t you see she wants to spend time with you?”

At this, Guy’s demeanor shifted, his features softening exponentially and his gaze immediately traveled to you, a smile tugging at the ends of his lips as he watched you animatedly tell a story to your enamored audience. 

Allan chuckling to himself brought his focus back to the drunken idiot still attached to him and he forcefully knocked Allan’s arm off. 

“I saw that,” Allan teased, a triumphant grin on his face. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Guy quipped, inwardly cringing at how defensive he sounded.

“Cut the act for once, eh? Go on!” he encouraged, lightly knocking elbows with Guy. 

He still seemed hesitant and Allan dramatically rolled his eyes, beyond annoyed and how utterly inept Guy was at all this. 

“Alright gents,” he suddenly cried out, catching most if not everyone’s attention. “I think it’s high time that we all indulge in this food provided to us by our _fine_ master here,” he brandished his arms out at Guy theatrically, the guards bursting into uproarious laughter at the sight. 

As the mention of free food slowly began to dawn on them, the crowd quickly dispersed and followed after Allan, who gave Guy one last parting wink before he disappeared behind the kitchen door, leaving the two of you alone.

The room was quiet, neither one of you sure how to make the first approach. Personally, you were almost certain Guy would excuse himself for the night and head to bed, which is what _you_ should be doing right about now, but you stubbornly refused to move. It must be the alcohol…

You heard him clear his throat, a red flush on his cheeks as he slowly approached the table you sat at. 

“Would you…” he began, his hands wrapped tightly around his tankard. “I mean… are you still wanting to play that game? The one you explained to the men earlier?”

Excitement bubbled up into your chest and you broke into a smile. “R… really?” 

He nodded and gingerly took the seat across from you. “I would love to participate. That is if you’re still wanting to,”

“Of course!” you eagerly blurted out and felt a ferocious blush creep up your neck at your overenthusiasm. 

His eyes sparkled and he gave you a deliciously playful smile, one that had you biting your lip and coquettishly fluttering your eyelashes at him. 

“This is a drinking game?” he asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

“How do you think they all got so drunk?” you challenged with a devious smile of your own. 

“I don’t think this is exactly _fair_.”

“Why? Because I’m a woman?”

“No! I have just… never seen you partake heavily in spirits before.”

“Oh, now _that_ sounds like a challenge, Gisborne!” you guffawed and slammed your now empty mug on the table. 

He gave you one of his signature smirks, the one that always sent your heart aflutter. He mockingly shook the bottle of wine the two of you would share, another one he scrounged from his reserves, and uncorked it, pouring himself a hefty serving. 

“I only wish to save you from the future humiliation you shall feel when I drink you under the table,” he teased and smiled at your dramatic gasp.

“I may be much smaller than you, sir, but rest assured, I _can_ handle my alcohol,” you said firmly and poured yourself an equally big serving.

He chuckled to himself and then raised up his tankard for a toast, the both of you knocking your cups together before taking hearty swigs of the red wine.

You frowned slightly at the bitter taste and made a disapproving sound in the back of your throat. 

“I think the sheriff may have _lied_ about the quality of these wines. If there’s one thing Italy spoiled me with, its wine.”

Guy peered at the bottle, his eyes squinting as he took a closer look. “The sheriff’s always said he’s never had the particular pallet for wine, but… wine is wine,” he said simply. “Or, do we need a specific drink to play this game of yours?”

“No,” you replied, and playfully waved off his comment. “I wouldn’t exactly call this a drinking game, but it does get more fun with alcohol involved.”

“Well? Are you going to tell me what it is? Or just leave me in suspense?”

“So impatient!” you flashed him a knowing look. “It’s simple, really. There are two options, either you can choose to reveal a truth about yourself or undergo a challenge devised by your competitor.”

“A challenge?”

“Say it came to me and I could not think of anything I’d wish to share, you’d then ask me to do something. For example…” you looked around the room and pointed at his leather jacket that rested on the back of a nearby chair. “I’d have to wear part of your uniform for the rest of the night.”

He chuckled and one of his eyebrows quirked up in amusement. “That doesn’t exactly sound like a challenge.”

You huffed and threw your hands up in exasperation. “Oh, you know what I’m getting at! I digress, it is an awful lot more fun when they turn out to be a bit humiliating.”

 _“Humiliating?_ What have I gotten myself into?” he muttered with a shake of his head. “Where exactly does the _drinking_ portion of this game kick in?”

“If you refuse to do the challenge or answer the question, you have to finish your drink.”

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

His eyes widened in surprise and he let out a resigned sigh. “Alright. I hope you don’t expect me to carry you to bed after you’ve incapacitated yourself.”

Your lower lip puffed out in a pout and you grabbed a hold of your mug. “And don’t expect me to fetch Thornton when you end up falling asleep on the cold hard floor!”

“Spitfire,” he snarked and your heart skipped a beat at the smirk on his face.

“I’ll start,” you said breathlessly and scooted forward to ask him, “So what’ll it be? A truth or a challenge?”

He’s quiet for a moment, his head cocked to the side in contemplation. “Hmm… let’s go with truth.”

“Alright. Say you’re in a fight, what’s your go-to weapon?”

“Hmm... I don’t mind using a broadsword, but I have an affinity for daggers if a fight is more up-close and personal.”

“Interesting,” you hummed. “Okay, now it’s your turn.”

“Truth or challenge?” he asked you.

“Truth.”

“Besides alchemy, what was one of your favorite subjects to learn about?”

“Ooh, good one,” you commended. “Hmm… astronomy was most fascinating. Did you know that there are entire worlds lying just beyond our naked eyes? Why there’s one surrounded by a beautiful set of icy rings!”

“Icy rings?”

“Yes! Saturn is its name, one of the few planets that rotate around us. Learning how much is out there certainly made me realize how infinitesimally small we are in comparison to the world around us, but that seemed to only fuel my passion for discovering more through alchemy.” 

Guy broke out into light, airy laughter and he shook his head in amusement. “You have to be the most _fascinating_ woman I’ve ever met.”

Heat rushes through you at his compliment and you smile bashfully, turning away to hide how flustered you’d become. “You flatter me, Guy.”

“I mean it,” he said earnestly and placed one of his hands over yours, your eyes widening in surprise. “Truthfully.”

You nodded and carefully retracted your hands from his grip to place them in your lap. “It’s… it’s your turn,” you blurted out, desperate to move along after how _intimate_ the tone of the conversation had become. 

“Challenge.”

Your previous anxieties disappeared at his response and you grin wickedly. “Oh, you _dare_ pick a challenge against _me?”_

“If it’s half as creative as you having to wear my jacket, then I’d say I’ve nothing to fear,” he said, a snide smile spreading across his face.

“You’ll come to regret those words, sir,” you replied with a cheeky grin. “My challenge is for you to show me your _best_ impersonation of the sheriff and ask me the next three questions as if you were him.”

“What?” he laughed. 

“Do you accept my challenge?”

As it dawns on him that you’re entirely serious, his demeanor shifts a bit and he heaves a heavy sigh as he rests his head on the palm of his hand. “You know,” he began, his voice sounding much more nasally. “I think I’ll come to enjoy this little _dish_ session. It’s important to know one’s allies, don’t you think?”

You bit down on your lip to prevent yourself from laughing. You could tell that Guy was thoroughly enjoying himself, it wasn’t every day you were given permission to outright mock your employer, it had to be more than a little satisfying. 

“Now, my dear,” he said in a conniving krone and mimicked the sheriff’s toothy grin. “What shall it be, hmm? Truth or challenge?”

“Truth, my lord,” you said, playing along.

Guy’s eyes lit up and he nodded approvingly. “Good, very good,” he mused to himself. “You’re quite the charming young woman. I’m amazed you’re still a maiden at this age. So, my question for you, is... have you had any suitors?”

You gaped at him and folded your arms across your chest. “What’s it to you?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tsked. “Answer the question, my dear, unless you want to gulp down that drink of yours.”

With a sigh, you grabbed your tankard and proceeded to drink all of the wine in your cup. By the end, your chest bloomed with warmth and your head started to swim as the alcohol traveled through your system. You dabbed at the sides of your mouth with a handkerchief and then delicately rested your hands on the table.

You finally lost your composure upon noticing Guy’s stupefied expression and your loud laughter rang out into the quiet halls of Locksley manor. 

“I didn’t think you’d _actually_ do it,” he said in his normal voice and you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

“What was that, my lord sheriff?” you chastised. 

“Yes, yes, you’re right,” he said and adjusted the way he held himself. “I believe it is now your turn.”

“Truth or challenge?” 

“Truth.”

Excellent, now you could give _him_ a taste of his own medicine.

“Have _you_ had any suitors, my lord?”

“Sneaky little thing,” he sneered. “I should have known you’d ask me that.” 

“Well?”

“Ahh, when I was a young man, in my prime,” he said dramatically and you giggled. “I had a few girls from the village come up to me with gifts, little trinkets or flowers. I never saw them as anything serious, but my father always pushed me into speaking to them. Nothing ever went anywhere, of course. Especially not now, not when I’ve found myself as the height of power,” he opened his arms and upturned his hands to the sky. “Who needs love when you’ve got all the money your little heart could ever desire?”

Even though you knew that he was playing it up for the game, a small part of you had trouble dissecting just where Guy’s true nature began and the characterization ended. It was troubling to dwell on the acts he’d committed while working under the sheriff and realize that, more often than not, he had placed the prospect of power on a higher pedestal than basic remorse or empathy. 

Sometimes it felt like you were beating a dead horse speaking to him, but you were stubborn and could only hope that the constant voicing of your opinion would continue to slowly work its way into his stream of consciousness. 

“Bored now,” Guy quipped at your deafening silence. “Truth or challenge?”

You blink back your reverie as you’re snapped out of it and offer him a shy smile. “Hmm… let’s go with a challenge.”

“Ooh, big mistake missy,” he said with a devilish smirk. “Go over and open that chest, the one by the fireplace.”

Following his instructions, you did as you were told and were more than a little perplexed at what lay inside. Bundles of cloth were hastily strewn about, each piece decorated in the emblematic Gisborne family colors, and you noticed a few pieces of metal glittering amongst the messy piles.

“What is all this?” you asked and glanced over your shoulder.

“Your challenge is to dress up like one of Gisborne’s little guards for the next two rounds.” his blue eyes sparkled in triumph as your mouth hung open in shock. 

“You’re a cruel man, my lord,” you grumbled and grimaced as you pulled out a helmet and an oversized shirt. “Have these at least been cleaned?” 

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that—”

“Guy.”

“You’re no fun,” he pouted. “Yes, yes, they’re the extras that we keep around just in case.”

“Thank goodness,” you muttered. It was comical, how tiny you were compared to the uniform and it was so large on you, that it looked more akin to a dress, nearly grazing the tops of your knees. The helmet was a little better but you could hardly see a thing and awkwardly fumbled around a bit until your legs hit the chair you’d been sitting in.

“How do your men do anything with these blasted things on their heads?” you could only just make out Guy behind the tiny slits and let out an annoyed sigh. “You said I had to wear this for two rounds?”

“Indeed.”

You made an irritated sound in the back of your throat and it echoed around you inside the tight confines of the helmet, Guy laughing in response.

“You’re right, this game is _much_ more fun when the challenges are humiliating.”

“Quit you’re gloating. Truth or challenge?”

“Truth.”

“Tell me about your home life.”

That seemed to catch him off-guard and he leaned forward a bit, as if unsure whether or not he heard you properly. “Pardon?” he abandoned his charade for the moment but this time, you didn’t mind. 

His reaction left you curious. 

“Your home life,” you repeated. “Tell me about your family. What were they like? Where did you grow up?” 

Guy was silent and reclined back into his seat, his jaw tight and expression unreadable. “Can I answer half the question?”

“Half?”

“I can tell you where I grew up.”

“That’s not how this works,” you snapped. “Either you answer my question or you take a drink—”

You could hardly finish your sentence before he grabbed his mug and chugged down his wine in a few hearty gulps. A few droplets slipped past his lips and he wiped them away with his sleeve, his hair slightly disheveled until he sniffed and composed himself, grabbing the bottle to pour both of you another hefty serving.

“My turn,” he said and returned to take up the facade as the sheriff, clearly trying to dissuade you from asking any more questions. 

“Unfortunately, your great and honorable sheriff of Nottingham will have to retire after this round…” he sighed and gave a slight pout, a sight you’d be remiss to say _wasn’t_ slightly adorable. “But it was certainly fun while it lasted. Now, my dear: truth or challenge?” 

“Truth.”

“Tell me about _your_ home life.”

Your eyebrows rose up slightly and you chuckled under the helmet. “My lord, I thought you raised finches, not parrots.”

Guy looked at you as though you’d grown a second head. “Pardon?”

“Seems a parrot’s gotten loose here in the manor, he’s repeating everything I say,” your tone is laced with mockery and you lean forward to rest your chin atop of your folded hands. 

As your joke dawned on him, he opened his mouth to say something but then abruptly closed it. “Ah. Well, I hate to be seen as anything _but_ original so…” he hummed. “Let’s try this then: do you ever see yourself having a family of your own, or are you dedicating your life to the pursuit of academics?”

It was a genuine question and one that, to be honest, you hadn’t ever really given much thought. 

“I’m… not sure,” you replied earnestly. “The idea of having a family of my own feels like such a foreign concept as if it’s something I’d never get to experience... but that’s a rather ridiculous thought. I’m sure when I find myself with a partner whom I love, I’ll eventually have to slow down on my academic life. Which… I don’t see as necessarily a bad thing.”

“So you’re saying it isn’t out of the question then?”

“Of course not. At the end of the day, all we humans truly want is love,” you smiled, a wistful expression glazing over your visage under the watchful guise of the iron helmet. “A family that you help build with the love you and your partner mutually share for one another? I doubt anything will ever top that.”

Silence lingers in the air for uncomfortably long and you begin to grow anxious at Guy’s lack of reaction. Nervous laughter spills from you, looking away from his heated stare as you muttered, “My apologies, that must have sounded so ridiculous—”

“No,” he immediately interjected. “No, it sounded… it sounded rather… nice.”

The expression on his face, what you could make out, looked almost vulnerable, a soft hue glowing in his vibrant eyes that almost made you wonder if he felt the same… 

You cleared your throat and placed your hands in your lap, rubbing them on the cotton fabric of the uniform. When had they gotten so clammy? 

“It’s your turn.”

“Truth.”

 _Again?_ you thought. Part of you wanted to ask him another question about his family, but it clearly made him uncomfortable so you decided to shift the focus of the conversation.

“You’re fairly young and you seem like the kind of man that values glory. Did you find yourself enlisted in the King’s Crusade at any point?”

“You’re asking if I fought in the Holy War?” he sounded a little off-put by the question and you raised an incredulous eyebrow up at him.

“So… I’m taking that as a no?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed. “This isn’t our war, it’s Pope Gregory’s,”

“Oh?”

Guy peered at you, clearly trying to gauge if you were _truly_ this clueless. “Do you really know nothing of the wars?”

“Of course I know about the wars,” you said in disbelief. “I’m merely curious to hear the reasoning behind your statement.”

He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he grabbed his mug and took a sip. “I’m assuming you’re aware of the papal bull that he sent out,”

“Yes…” you murmured. “The _audita tremendi?”_

Guy nodded his head. “Correct. In it, he claimed that the reason we previously failed to conquer Jerusalem was due to the overwhelming nature of our sins. Apparently, the battle we lost in Hattin was caused by our own hand so he called upon any able-bodied man to take up arms to bring repentance upon his country.”

“You can’t be serious,” plucking the helmet off of your head, you combed your fingers through your hair and tossed the uniform behind you, smiling skeptically at Guy. 

“Do you really expect anything else from the church?” his dark tone sent shivers down your spine.

“No,” you meekly replied and gulped down more of your wine. “I suppose not,” you took a moment to compose your thoughts and stared at him with renewed resolve. “So, I’m assuming that you find the King’s pursuits to be pointless, then?”

“I wouldn’t say pointless,” he replied and took another sip, the both of you openly drinking at this point. “But I do find it rather difficult to support a man fighting for an indoctrinated cause.”

“I take it then that you do not believe that he’ll be successful,” you challenged. “In reclaiming Jerusalem?”

He scoffed and continued to nurse his wine. “I doubt it,”

“If you’re so cynical of the King’s victory, then why do you push so hard for the taxes you claim fund this war?”

His eyes narrowed a bit at you, wary of what you were insinuating. “It’s my job,” he said plainly. “If the canon has ordered us to repent, then the least the common man can do is spare a few coins to help that futile dream come true.”

“What good is it that they suffer then, the poor?” you said with a slight edge to your tone. “For this futile dream? For the good of King and country?”

“I’m not the one who imposed the taxes,” he replied curtly.

“No, but you _enforce_ them,” you quipped. “You say this war is pointless and yet you strip a man of everything he has in order to fund it. Do you not see how hypocritical that is?”

His shoulders tensed at your accusation and he barked out, “And what would you have me do instead? Send a message to Prince John that we won’t have his brother’s funds ready because I decided to show the townsfolk a little leeway?”

Your face prickled with heat, but it wasn’t from the wine. “Do you not see how utterly _vile_ it is, inadvertently helping a system that is destroying itself from the inside out? What sort of country is Richard going to return to if the sheriff continues to bleed the very people that helped found it dry?” 

Guy sneered at you, his eyes retaining a glassy look to them thanks to all the wine. “Well, you seem to be _brimming_ with suggestions. What would have me do instead, hmm?”

You weren’t sure if it was his snide tone, or your utter disdain for the current state of affairs, or the wine flowing through your veins— maybe it was a little bit of all three because before you could stop yourself, you blurted out,

“Quit working for the sheriff.”

He stiffened for a moment before he rolled his eyes. “Not this again,” he muttered and grabbed the wine bottle, pouring the remainder of the alcohol into his mug. 

“ _Why_ do you insist on sticking by him?” you boldly asked him. “Surely you must see that he’s only using you—”

“He’s all that I have.”

There’s a level of conviction in his voice that renders you speechless and Guy heaved a heavy sigh, his head hung low in resignation. “Why do you think I’m able to be here now, in Locksley?”

“You’re a Lord,” you replied after taking a large gulp of your wine. “Surely you were given some lands by your parents,”

There’s a bittersweet smile on his face and he chuckled dryly. “No,” he said with a shake of his head. “The only reason I can even call myself Lord of Locksley is because of him.”

An air of dread settles around him, one that curls it’s gnarly fingers around his shoulders and slowly slinks over to you. It’s almost suffocating.

You reached out your hand and placed a comforting grip on his arm. His head whips up to stare at you and you offer him a kind smile, your eyebrows creased together with worry. 

“What do you mean?” you pressed. He seemed hesitant at first, his gaze shifting to the side as if he were silently debating with himself on whether or not to reveal anything to you. 

You gave his arm a gentle squeeze, silently reassuring him that it was alright, and after a moment, a shaky sigh tumbled from his lips.

“The reason I had no lands of my own, was because…” he took a quick drink to calm his nerves. “My… my parents both passed away when I was young. A house fire… it… it claimed them both,” 

“Oh, Guy,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry,”

He gave a hollow chuckle in response and shook off your condolences, drawing away from your embrace to fold his arms across his chest. “It’s all in the past,” he whispered sadly. “There’s nothing to be done now…”

Your own gaze was downcast, unsure of how to proceed. It seems as though you’d opened Pandora’s box and entered into a rather precarious territory of Guy’s past. The night had started off so well… it wouldn’t feel right letting it end this way.

“Could you tell me about them?” you wondered. “Your parents?”

His eyes finally met yours again and they were filled with genuine surprise. “Really?”

“If that’s alright with you,” you smiled, a lovely warmth blossoming through your chest at the grin that spread across his own face in response.

“Of course,” he said and you were relieved at how much more relaxed he seemed, the previous friendly atmosphere of the night quickly reclaiming its hold on the two of you. 

“My mother… her name was Ghislaine and she hailed from the Kingdom of France,”

“France?” your eyes sparkled in the warm light of the fire. “That’s so exciting!”

“I suppose so,” he said with a shy smile. “She was beautiful and so kind. My father’s name was Roger, a tried and true Englishman that was well respected in the village. I also had a younger sister, Isabella, but we have not seen each other in a long awhile…” he said awkwardly and quickly moved on.

“My parents loved each other very much, but… as to be expected, my father was a man of honor and he went off to fight in the current Crusade at the time,” 

He took a tight grip of his mug, his fingers interlocked around the handle as he brought it up to his lips for a hearty swig. “A couple of months later, we received news that a few soldiers had been captured by the Turkish army, my father being one of them. We assumed the worst and all grieved for our loss… that is until he suddenly reappeared. I was happy but, I could tell that something was different, that something had changed during his time away,”

You hummed quietly in understanding. “So I’ve heard. A few scholars I knew called it a sickness of the mind, claiming that war had battered their senses and left them unable to cope with the horrors they’d seen in battle.”

“No,” Guy quickly interjected. “My father was sound in mind, this… this was different,”

“Did he return with an injury of some sort?” you guessed. 

“You could say that…” he replied softly. He hesitated again for a moment and then took another drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he finished the last of the wine. He needed all the liquid courage for this one.

“My father…” he slurred. “My father had returned home in one piece, but he had also returned home a _leper.”_

You gasped, your hands covering your mouth from shock. “He caught leprosy?” 

He solemnly nodded his head. “As to be expected, he was eventually discovered and… banished from the village,”

A bitter taste filled your mouth and your lips were pursed thinly together in disapproval. You knew why people were so afraid of the disease but it was just that, a _disease._ The fact that society had gone along with condemning a whole group of people for such a thing beyond their control… 

“That must have been terrible…” you said remorsefully. “I’m so sorry, Guy,”

“I was left with nothing when they died,” he said, his voice trembling a bit. “It’s only because of the sheriff that I’ve been able to make a name for myself and if this is what it takes for the Gisborne family name to regain its previous prestige, then so be it.” 

His eyes clouded over for a split second, the faintest trace of remorse lingering on his visage before he leaned back and cocked his shoulders, masterfully erasing any shadows of doubt that may have encapsulated his thoughts. 

Your own were equally as jumbled and you felt your lips lower into a frown as you digested all of this newfound information. It made sense for Guy to have such a high-strung notion of power if the only person that ever made promises of future attainment was Vasey. It also explained his devout loyalty. Who was he to turn his back on the man that made him? The motives for his actions could be explained so simply now that you knew where his drive came from, however, with these new insights, your own feelings towards Guy become even more muddled.

The actions that he had taken in the past could never be condoned, but if this pursuit of power, this pursuit of wealth, had been twisted and manipulated since it was originally instilled in him, would there really have been another path he could take? As a young man with no money, no title, no land to your name, would it truly be preposterous to imagine him abandoning his humanity in order to rise above the rest to reclaim his family’s honor?

Now that you heard his story, you felt the cogs in your brain begin to turn. These were behaviors that he had learned to survive… would it be possible for him to perhaps _unlearn_ them? But under whose guidance? _Yours?_

You felt heat blossom in your cheeks at that thought. 

“What about you?”

His voice intruded in on your thoughts and you stared at him, wide-eyed, not expecting him to ask you any further questions.

“Me? What about me?” you responded stupidly.

“Tell me about your home life,”

You chuckled and shrugged your shoulders. “What’s there to talk about? My parents have always been well off and I grew up without ever worrying about having a roof over my head or food in my belly,” you finally managed to catch up with Guy in finishing your wine, your tongue swiping across your lower lip as you hummed softly. 

You noticed that his eyes were hooded, a slight flush on his cheeks that you surmised was from the alcohol… at least, you were _pretty_ sure.

Your teeth dug playfully into your bottom lip as you suppress a few giggles. “Well,” you conceded in a drawl. “I suppose it wasn’t the _most_ mundane of lives. It was rather entertaining to turn down all the suitors my father sent my way,”

Guy smirked and that only made you laugh even harder. “You turned them _all_ down?”

“Oh, Guy,” you said with a dramatic roll of your eyes. “If you’d’ve seen these men, you would have done the same. One of them believed it to be uncouth that I should know how to read, insulting not only my pride but my intelligence in the process. That meeting lasted for another five minutes before I _accidentally_ poured the boiling water we’d prepared for tea all over him.”

“You did not,”

A conniving grin spread across your lips and you keeled back, hand draped on your forehead as you wailed, “Oh, but I am nothing more than a frail maiden! Surely, he should have known that I would be too _weak_ to graciously pour him a cup of tea!” 

Guy burst into a boisterous bout of laughter, a joyous sound that made your heart skip a beat. 

“You really went through all that trouble?” he asked after having collected himself.

“Of course, I was not about to allow my parents to choose my _partner_ for me. They’ve dictated enough of my life, the least they can do is inadvertently offer up the chance for me to find someone on my own,” 

“So you’re actively looking?”

The question took you by surprise and you flash him a curious look before his eyes dart away from your heated stare. 

“Not… that it’s of any importance,” he half-heartedly added. 

“Oh, well,” you replied awkwardly and laughed. “I mean… I suppose one could say that I am, but, this… this job...” you heaved a heavy sigh. “It bars me from practically meeting anyone and I doubt that the sheriff would be pleased if he discovered that I’d been discussing my frustrations over a certain secret formula to my partner,” 

You were almost pouting at this point and Guy couldn’t help but crack a smile at the sight; you were _quite_ adorable…

Your face suddenly lit up and you let out a dramatic gasp, Guy jolting in his seat unexpectedly. 

“I almost forgot!” you exclaimed and shakily rose to your feet as you shoved one of your hands into your dress pocket. After some poking around, you pulled out what it is you were looking for with a triumphant grin.

“Aha! There you are,” you mused and walked over to hover above Guy as you tantalizingly swung a small, leather sack in front of his face. “I almost forgot about this,” you hummed and let the string slip from your fingers, Guy expertly snatching it up with his quick reflexes.

He raised a skeptical eyebrow up at you, laughing at the dopey expression on your face. “What is this?”

“Your birthday present silly!”

His eyes widened slightly and he stared down at the pouch before his gaze flickered back to you. “You didn’t need to get me anything…”

You scoffed and placed a hand on your hip as you gave him an incredulous look. “Of course I did! It’s your _birthday!”_ you emphasized with a flourish of your hands. “Don’t try and tell me you don’t deserve it because you do! Now, open it up and tell me what you think.”

He was flabbergasted for a moment until a broad smile broke out onto his face and he excitedly untied the knot keeping it closed. Flipping it over, the long silver chain of the locket pooled into the palm of his hand, the gemstone landing on top with a quiet _thud._

He was quiet, silently admiring the piece's craftsmanship, bringing the jewel up to his face to get a closer look. 

A grin spread across your visage when you caught the recognition glimmering in his eyes and he turned to you, his gratitude almost palpable.

“Is this… my family crest?”

You nodded enthusiastically and took a step closer to point out the details. “I engraved the griffon onto the stone that I handpicked myself for its striking colors. I believe that this is called a tiger’s eye, known for its beautiful yellow and black coloration,”

“Like my house colors?”

“Yes!” you were ecstatic that he was able to deduce your stylistic choices so quickly.

His mouth fell agape and his attention went back to his present, gingerly tracing the pattern with the pads of his fingers. 

“This... you _made_ this for me?”

“I think I already said that,” you replied dumbfoundedly and he chuckled. 

“It’s beautiful,” he replied and he turned his head to adoringly gaze at you. “Thank you...”

You stared down at him with hooded eyes and gave him a smile. His own widened slightly as you placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close, stopping to hover your face mere inches from his. 

“Happy birthday, Guy,” you said softly, your voice raspy and tinted with a hint of lingering sultriness.

There was an instant reaction, his blue eyes flicking towards your lips and his neck inclining ever so slightly in your direction. 

You crept ever closer and you felt one of his hands grip your forearm. Your name fell off his lips in a quiet whisper, one that sent shivers down your spine. 

He said it again and your eyes fluttered closed.

“Yes?” you responded wistfully.

“You should head to bed, love,”

Your eyes slowly opened and while your stomach was doing somersaults at what he just called you, what he said took a minute to process. 

When it finally hit you, you backed away, stumbling on your feet as your face burned from embarrassment. “Forgive me,” you blurted out. “I should have known better—”

“Enough,” he said gently and ceased your hopeless sputtering. “It's alright, you are not yourself right now,” he stood up from his seat and walked over to you. Slowly, he lifted his arm to place a tentative hand on your cheek.

You instantly leaned into his embrace and you felt your heart skip a beat at the smile currently on his face. 

“Get some rest, I’ll see you in the morning,”

You sighed, happy, and content as you pictured laying in a big plush bed. Without thinking too much about it, you clasped your hand over the one Guy still had resting on your cheek and delicately kissed the center of his palm.

“Thank you Guy,” you said tiredly.

His hand slowly slid from your grip and you gave him one last parting glance before you left the parlor and carefully started up the stairs to the guest bedroom. Your limbs sprawled out all around you as you collapsed onto the bed, sighing contently at just how _soft_ the blankets were, and quickly drifted off to sleep, blissfully unaware of the man that sat one floor below, his thoughts currently consumed by one thing: you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY i baited y'all but... i had to do it. 
> 
> this is probably one of my favorite chapters in the whole fic & you can see why. it was soOOo much fun writing the literal truth or dare game you & guy played. oh and of course all the fun you have with allan at the party.
> 
> \+ all the things about the medieval universities, and the pope, and the third crusade are all TRUE. i was a little shocked with the uni fact tbh but i guess it makes sense, that's how humans be; partying like absolute fiends during times of extreme academic stress since the 11th century babyyy 😎
> 
> anyways, i hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as i did. there's a lot of great development here and i promise that the actual kiss is coming soon. i just... luv to add the drama. anyways, tysm for reading. lots of love <3


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